


The Gathering of Moss

by sadiequinn86



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Mystery, Protective Jughead Jones, Romance, Slow Burn, Southside Serpent Betty Cooper, Southside Serpent Jughead Jones, bughead - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-04-04 16:02:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 72,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14023758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadiequinn86/pseuds/sadiequinn86
Summary: Jughead Jones will do anything to protect Betty Cooper and make sure she leads a perfect, happy life. So when the police investigating the disappearance of the shady man cast their eyes in Betty's direction, Jughead willingly confesses in order to spare her any incrimination. When he returns from a stint in jail, it doesn't take much for him to realize that his nearest and dearest are hiding something from him. Something that undoubtedly involves a certain blonde, who has apparently developed both a taste for black leather and a hatred for none other than Jughead Jones himself.Can Jughead solve the mystery and win back the girl?100% old fashioned bughead slow burn. Canon to 2x13 then AU.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys this is my first time writing bughead and my first attempt at writing on AO3. Please be kind! I wrote this story over the weeks of the hiatus (when we all had lots of time to ponder what would happen following episode 2x13) and the idea that Juggie takes the fall for the shady man's murder was something I hadn't seen explored elsewhere. This prologue chapter is written in the style of a hard and fast summation, not unlike the way Jughead provides an overarching narration for each episode of the show. The real meat of the story begins in the next instalment. I hope you like it!

A rolling stone gathered no moss.

Or so they said. 

Jughead wasn't sure who 'they' were, or why 'they' made such a claim, but he was pretty sure 'they' were wrong. A rolling stone gathered plenty of moss...if moss was a figurative term for the shattered lives of those who couldn't move out of its path of destruction fast enough. 

In that sense, Jughead knew a lot about rolling stones – particularly the one that destroyed his life when he was sixteen years old. For the longest time, Jughead thought his was the only life that had been trampled. But as it later turned out, Jughead was so very wrong. 

The truth was, once that rolling stone was set in motion, it all happened very quickly.

So fast, in fact, that it took Jughead several weeks of dank solitude to connect the puzzle pieces and put the events that irrevocably changed his life into some kind of meaningful chronological order. 

First came the missing persons report. Of that, he was sure. 

Betty noticed it first in the form of a flyer stapled to the notice board at Pops. Then they heard it on the local evening radio. Finally, a family member approached Alice and Hal Cooper at The Register and asked them to run a missing persons story on the front page of the paper. 

It led to a very nerve wracking get-together in the Cooper's living room where Alice paced the newly rugless floor and loudly debated the risks the family was taking by either acquiescing or denying the request, while Chic sat quietly blubbering in the corner (as, Jughead later learned, Chic tended to do) and Betty sat on the pristine sofa staring intensely at the wall and embedding her finger nails deeply into her palms. 

Sitting next to Betty on that couch, Jughead split his energy carefully between listening to Alice's deliberations and trying gently to pry his girlfriend's fists open without alarming her. 

In the end, it was decided that not printing the missing persons report was too much of a glaring admission of guilt. After all, it wasn't usual practice for people to go missing in Riverdale so naturally The Register would want to be involved.

Two days later, the story ran on the front page of the paper as planned and the whole saga became sensational news at Riverdale High. Copies of the special edition were everywhere. Suddenly Betty and Jughead couldn't turn a corner without being confronted by the haunted eyes of a dead man, staring back at them in immortalized pulp. 

Next came Betty's breakdown. 

She turned up at the trailer at 2am, her clothes soaked through from the pouring rain outside, or maybe from her torrent of tears. 

Jughead pulled her inside and listened patiently to her incoherent hysterics before dragging her over to the couch, wrapping her in faded blankets that smelled faintly of Hotdog and systematically refuting every element of her rambling and illogical argument. 

He reminded her that it was her incredibly sketchy brother Chic who had done the murdering, and her more-than-slightly ridiculous mother who had dragged her youngest child into the cover-up operation. So really of all the Coopers in the house that fateful evening, she was then and would always remain the _least culpable_ party. 

Meanwhile, FP had loitered in the dimly lit kitchen, offering cups of herbal tea that Jughead didn't know they even kept in their mostly bare pantry along with soothing words of wisdom. 

"It's been more than a week, Betty." his father had said. "There's no longer a body. There's no evidence. There's nothing to connect any Coopers to any crime whatsoever. You can stop worrying. It's going to be okay."

The reason those words stuck so poignantly in Jughead's mind for such a long time afterwards was because they turned out to be completely and unbelievably wrong. 

It was the following Tuesday when a friendly old net fisherman down at Sweetwater River caught more than just northern pikes or small-mouth bass in his net. There, nestled amongst his daily catch, was an extremely soggy cell phone that the good samaritan promptly handed in to the local Sheriff's Department. 

Whilst the phone itself was completely fried, the phone case and serial number matched that of the ominous missing man. Memories of Jason Blossom sat firmly in the forefront of Sheriff Keller's mind as he pondered the possibility of that treacherous river purging yet another corpse, so he immediately ordered the dredging of Sweetwater. 

Of course, no body turned up in the searches, because there was no body to find. The sodium hydroxide had taken care of that. 

But there was an extremely suspicious car found lodged in the bed of that river. A car, Sheriff Keller discovered, with license plates registered to the exact same owner as that water-logged phone. An owner who, Keller then ascertained, happened to also be a drug dealer. 

That's when the missing persons case was upgraded to a murder investigation and shit started getting terrifyingly real. 

Jughead was never entirely certain because it all happened so fast, but he was almost convinced that the next occurrence in the unfortunate chain of events was the sudden disappearance of Chic Cooper. 

The day after the town was swept up in a whirlwind of gossip at the car's discovery, Alice went upstairs to find her most beloved son had high-tailed it right out of Riverdale leaving no trace of himself, her diamond engagement ring or the three hundred dollars that had been tucked safely away in her purse. 

Despite the best efforts of the Cooper women, it seemed that Chic had vanished completely. A fact which did not go unnoticed by the local Riverdale community, fuelled mostly by Hal Cooper's insistent chatter about a broken family, the boy's suspicious behavior, and a house that suddenly stank of bleach. 

Sheriff Keller had started digging then, and discovered interesting titbits such as Chic's line of work in _‘fantasy fulfilment’_ and his undeniable drug addiction that linked him directly to the presumed murder victim. 

For the first time, the Cooper women were hauled down to Keller's office for questioning. Naturally they denied any knowledge of ever having met the missing man, Chic's drug habit or his current whereabouts. As there was no evidence, they were released without charge but remained persons of interest in the investigation. 

For a few days, things returned to somewhat normal in the little town with pep. The kids attended class, ate at Pops after school and Betty even started sleeping again. 

Then all of a sudden everything spectacularly unravelled. Time seemed to speed up and yet also ground to a halt almost simultaneously. 

First, Keller's continued investigation into Chic led to the horrifying discovery that Betty Cooper had also become involved in less than savory webcam activities. A fact which quietly shocked and devastated both Alice and Jughead, and sent Betty spiralling into depression and shame. 

This new evidence was enough to turn the police spotlight firmly in her direction, and also cast the possibility that Betty, like her brother, was involved in drugs and therefore may have met with the missing dealer herself. 

Next came the unsolicited testimony from the owner of a nearby run-down hostel that both the Cooper siblings were unhinged and Betty had violently attacked him with pepper spray. This was followed by a statement from Chuck Clayton that Betty had drugged him and tried to drown him whilst wearing a black wig and calling herself Polly. 

From there, it was only a small leap for the Sheriff's Department to mount a convincing argument that Betty Cooper was violent, mentally unstable, possibly a drug addict and definitely the prime suspect in not only the disappearance of the drug dealer, but also her own brother. 

Betty was then dragged to the Sheriff's office for a second round of questioning, this time trembling with fear and sobbing. Mary Andrews, in a frantic phone call all the way from Chicago, advised Betty to keep her mouth shut until she could catch a flight home to Riverdale, so Betty languished silently in a holding cell. 

At that moment Alice Cooper's mama bear instincts kicked in. The woman was undeniably more than slightly insane, but nobody could ever accuse her of not being fiercely protective of all her children. Without consulting anyone, she marched straight down to the police station and confessed to the murder herself.

Alice was taken into police custody, just as an inconsolable Betty was released into the care of her clueless father. An arrangement that meant nothing as she ran straight to the Joneses trailer and set herself up in the one and only bedroom, refusing to leave or even allow Veronica and Archie to visit her. 

At that point, things went from bad to worse and finally spun completely out of control. 

FP, in some crazed attempt to save Alice Cooper that Jughead would _never_ fully comprehend, also confessed to the murder of the drug dealer and demanded that Alice be released. The town almost buckled under the weight of the gossiping and wild conspiracy theories. 

Unfortunately for FP and fortunately for Jughead, the police then dug up surveillance camera footage that clearly showed FP filling up his truck with gas at a stop outside Midvale on the night of the disappearance, a shamed and angry Tall Boy sitting in the passenger seat awaiting deliverance to his final place of banishment.

For an agonizing 48 hours it seemed that Alice Cooper's confession was going to stick and she was actually going to be sentenced for murder. 

But then came the final blows to the besieged Cooper family: dash cam footage from the vehicle of a traffic officer doing the rounds a few nights after the drug dealer’s disappearance clearly showed Betty and Jughead on the front steps of the Cooper residence and Jughead laying claim to the victim's car. 

Then an ex-girlfriend of the victim came forward to inform police she had received a phone call that very same day from the victim's phone, but the voice on the other end of the line had belonged to an inquiring young female. 

Finally, Betty was unavoidably implicated in a murder she had neither committed nor even witnessed. 

Much like the arrest of Cheryl Blossom shortly after Jason's disappearance, the Sheriff and Principal Weatherbee interrupted them all in the middle of class. 

"Betty Cooper, you'll need to come with us." Keller said sternly. 

Betty had looked up from her chemistry text book and frowned. "What? Why?" 

"You're under arrest for murder." came the Sheriff's unsubtle reply. 

In that moment the entire classroom let out a dramatic collective gasp while Jughead threw his chair back and pushed himself hastily to his feet. "You can't arrest her. She's a minor. This is an obstruction of her civil liberties." 

Keller had turned to appraise him and then rolled his eyes. "Feel free to accompany us, Mr Jones. You're also under arrest for acting as an accomplice." 

Jughead Jones and Betty Cooper, Riverdale High's own answer to Romeo and Juliet, sat side by side in the back of a deputy's car on the trip to the station, Jughead squeezing Betty's hand tightly to prevent her from re-opening the scars on her palm. 

Just as they pulled into the parking lot, he leaned over and placed a tender kiss on her temple before whispering "Say nothing. Don't say a word to any question they ask you. Trust me, okay?" and she had nodded her agreement even as the tears started escaping from the corners of her eyes. 

Moments later, they were pulled roughly from the car, forced into the building and led into separate interrogation rooms across the hall from each other. As the doors to the rooms started to shut, Betty turned, their eyes met and she desperately mouthed the words _Juggie I love you_ before the doors slammed closed and she disappeared from view. 

And that was the final time Jughead Jones saw Betty Cooper. 

Betty Cooper - the little blonde girl in the pink sweater who always shared her lunch with him in kindergarten. 

Betty Cooper - the third grader who ruined his magnificent tree house by hanging floral curtains on the windows. 

Betty Cooper - the seventh grader who loved to read as much as he did, and sweetly scribbled suggestions all over the stories he wrote for her. 

Betty Cooper - the sophomore who showed him time and time again how much she loved him, who would always put him first, who had been his salvation. 

Betty Cooper - the love of his life who would not, under _any_ circumstances, be going to jail for a crime she didn't commit.

Oddly, Keller had chosen to interview him and left Betty in the less capable hands of one of his deputies. Before the Sheriff even had a chance to take a seat at the table, Jughead had made up his mind on a course of action. 

"You need to let Betty go immediately." 

Keller sighed in exasperation and cleared his throat. "That young lady is in a great deal of trouble. She isn't going anywhere."

"She is." Jughead disagreed wholeheartedly. "Because I'm telling you right now that I murdered that drug dealer. Betty had nothing to do with it. I dumped the car and the phone in Sweetwater River and I did it alone. You saw that dash cam footage, right? I'm the one who took the car. Betty was just sitting on the steps outside her house minding her own business. Everything you have on her is circumstantial, but you have me on tape attesting ownership of that car plus you now have my confession. So arrest me for murder and call my lawyer, okay? Because I've got nothing else to say until Mary Andrews arrives."

Life had a funny way of evolving in unexpected ways. Because on that ordinary day in the ordinary town of Riverdale, a rolling stone that truly had nothing to do with Jughead Jones gathered up his life and completely destroyed it. 

And he willingly allowed it to happen, in order to save the life of the girl he loved. 

Little did he know just how much it would change the course of both their futures...


	2. Parole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You’re shitting me? They’re letting you out? Those bastards on the parole board must be crazy.” the prison officer chuckled, drifting closer to the open cell door. “You got a girl waiting for you back home?” 
> 
> “Nah.” Jughead shook his head firmly and ran a hand through his thick mop of dark hair. “She’s long gone.”
> 
> “She wasn’t worth it then.” the guard said dismissively, and Jughead bit back the strong desire to correct the man standing before him. She was worth it. Of course she was. She was worth so much he’d forced her out of his messed up life just to protect her.

Jughead took one last drag from the cigarette tucked firmly between his lips, before letting it drop to the gravel and stomping it out with the heel of his shoe. 

He turned his neck sharply left and then right before rolling his shoulders back in a long slow movement, both feeling and hearing the satisfying pop of tightly wound muscles. 

“Hey Jones.” came the gruff voice from somewhere above him.

Jughead glanced upward and immediately smirked at the figure standing nearby to the bench he was languidly perched on in the exercise yard. 

“Tarzan.” he acknowledged, his voice laced with nicotine and equally gruff. 

Tarzan held the esteemed position of being the only other Serpent currently serving time in the same correctional facility as Jughead, albeit for a much more legitimate reason. Despite the fact they hadn’t known each other prior to their incarcerations, their shared sense of gang loyalty and a longing for the familiarities of home had seen them become firm allies. 

“Heard a little rumor you were being released sometime soon?” Tarzan asked, casually stepping one leg over the bench and then lowering himself to a sitting position so that he faced Jughead side-on. 

“Tomorrow, actually.” Jughead confirmed smugly. 

“Thought you were serving ten years for murder. You’ve only been in here for, what?” Tarzan glanced down at his wrist as if reading the time and date off an invisible watch. “Four and a half years?” 

Jughead rolled his eyes and shook his head before offering his friend a wry smirk. “Actually Zan, I was convicted of manslaughter and sentenced to seven years, but I’ve been here in this fine establishment for three years, seven months, two weeks and six days. Not that I’m counting…” 

“Still.” Tarzan shrugged. “Why are they letting you out?” 

“A beautiful little thing called good behavior.” Jughead answered proudly. “You should try it sometime – it might do wonders. At the very least it’d keep you out of solitary for a while.” 

Tarzan, a stocky looking biker in his late forties, tipped his head back and let out a gargantuan belly laugh. “But how else would I manage to squeeze some alone time into my otherwise busy schedule?” 

The light-hearted conversation was suddenly interrupted by angry shouting and the sound of flesh pounding on flesh. 

Jughead turned toward the origin of the commotion and appraised the disagreement that had erupted between two of the rival groups within the cell block. He watched in annoyance as the petty brawl quickly escalated to an all-out war when Tommy Blarney, an Irish arsonist housed in the cell three down from him, produced a crudely constructed shank knife and used it to gut Patrick Madden, a notorious bank robber from upstate. 

“Ugh. I’m outta here.” Jughead muttered, rolling his eyes. “I have no desire to get dragged into any bullshit on my last day.” 

“Take it easy, man.” Tarzan said, slapping him jovially on the back. “Send my regards to the guys back in Riverdale. Tell FP I expect a visit real soon.”

“Will do.” Jughead nodded, managing a smile even as he swallowed down the lump in his throat at the mention of his hometown. 

Jughead managed to slip quietly from the yard just as the sirens sounded. The guards came running and the area was immediately put under lock-down, but he continued his walk without so much as a backward glance. He remembered wistfully his first few months in the penitentiary, when the violence and constant shouting had frightened him. Now it was just a normal part of life and he wondered how he would cope being away from it.

Jughead made his way back to his cell and flopped onto the threadbare mattress. For the first time in years, he consciously felt the uncomfortable scratchiness of the blanket beneath his body. Just one more night and he would be back in the relative comfort of his own bed. He was both excited and petrified at the thought.

Just the idea of going home stirred so many memories within him. Not just from his childhood, but also his last few days in the town with pep... 

His father crying through the bars of the holding cell and begging him to rescind his confession. Promising his only son that they would find another way to save the Cooper family.

Betty’s hysterical voice echoing off the walls at the police station as she demanded to be let into the holding area to see him, completely unaware that he’d specifically asked Keller to keep her away. 

Mary Andrews fighting fervently to get his charge downgraded to manslaughter. Her voice still rang clear in his head: _There’s no body. There’s no murder weapon. There’s no proof this guy is even dead, other than a confession from a minor arguably made under coercion from police._

In the end Mary had won the battle but not the war – his charge was downgraded, but as part of the plea bargain it was negotiated that Jughead be tried as an adult due to the perceived severity of the crime. 

Mary and FP had been up in arms, arguing the adult corrective system was no place for a soon to be seventeen-year-old boy. But Jughead had surprised them all by readily agreeing, on the condition that the judge presiding over his case closed the courtroom. 

Nobody could understand why he wanted such a thing, and he didn’t have the energy to explain that his motive was to ensure Betty was as removed from the situation as possible. She was relentless in her pursuit of anything she felt passionate about, and he knew that physically shutting her out of the building would be the only way to keep her away.

From the moment his sentence was handed down and he was led from the courtroom in shackles, Jughead had actively avoided anything Riverdale related. He worked deliberately to actively cut himself completely from the lives of every single person back home; his father being the only exception. 

He refused visits and phone calls, and sent back unopened letters with **RETURN TO SENDER** branded across the front of the envelopes in angry black scribble. For a while the unanswered letters and phone calls persisted – particularly from a certain determined little blonde – but eventually even she got the message and Jughead fell into proverbial radio silence with Riverdale at large. 

It was a decision made partly to protect himself and his own emotions (it was harder for one to miss a place if one pretended it didn’t exist) but mainly to protect Betty. Well, Betty and the others – Archie, Veronica, and hell even Kevin and Toni. He definitely cared about them too, in a slightly less obvious way.

He just wanted them to live normal, good, decent lives that didn’t involve visits to prisons or constantly worrying that someone would find out about their dirty secret friendship with a convicted criminal. He knew being tied to him would hold them back, would hold her back. 

Despite his best efforts, small snippets of information still occasionally wormed their way inside his isolated existence within the prison walls – proof unavoidable that life in the outside world was moving on and leaving him behind. 

FP had arrived for a visit one day a couple of years ago wearing a simple white shirt with the words _Andrews and Andrews Construction_ embroidered on the chest. That was how he learned that Archie had partnered with his dad in the family business right after the Riverdale gang graduated high school. 

They’d offered FP a steady job with decent pay; something Jughead was thankful for. But it also made his stomach sink to know that Archie spent more time with his own father than he did. 

Jughead had learned about Veronica seven months ago whilst sitting in the prison mess hall. A lone television set was mounted to the wall in some lame attempt to placate violence amongst the inmates during meal times. The name _Veronica Lodge_ had caught his attention and he glanced up from his simple meal of surprise casserole hotpot (the surprise most likely that the meat was horse or dog, Jughead had no doubt). 

Sure enough, the one and only daughter of Hiram Lodge was being interviewed by a reporter as part of a fluff news story about New York Fashion Week. The info that flashed up at the bottom of the screen labelled her as a fashion student at New York University, and she spoke enthusiastically about her wonderful experience as an intern for designer Alexander Wang. It was the life Jughead had always known she was destined to live. 

Thankfully, or perhaps unfortunately, titbits about the life and times of the girl he’d willingly gone to jail for were not as forthcoming. In the three years, seven months, two weeks and six days of his incarceration nobody had breathed a word of her in his direction. 

In a way, he was grateful for the reprieve. On the many nights when the prison was too loud and Jughead was unable to sleep, he would stare at the concrete ceiling and fantasize about all the wonderful things he just knew she was doing. 

She was no doubt studying at an Ivy League school. But was it Brown? Or Princeton? Or possibly Yale? He liked to imagine her majoring in journalism and arguing with the professors about her grades, even though her GPA was already excellent. She would cut her hair short because college life made her feel very grown up and probably take a part-time job as a receptionist at a respectable newspaper to help further her future career. 

Every night when Jughead finally drifted off to sleep, he was thankful that Betty Cooper had the opportunity to pursue those dreams, and to live that life. The life she always deserved. The life that would have been stolen from her if she had gone down for a crime she never committed. It made him almost proud to be imprisoned, knowing he’d done it to give her the best life possible. 

And life in the prison system hadn’t been entirely bad for him. Definitely awful, but not utterly abhorrent. 

He would admit only to himself that the first few months were terrifying and dangerous, when Jughead was a scared, lanky teenager and the top dog amongst the prisoners was a sardonic, inherently evil gang banger aptly named Blood Pirate. 

Gang members had cornered him more than once in the showers and beaten him senseless without even giving a reason. In the beginning, Jughead had cried himself to sleep more times than he could count. 

That all changed when rival gangster Jon-Jon had arrived. Initially, nobody was scared of an insignificant creature with a name like Jon-Jon. But Jughead knew better than most people that names could be deceiving, and he had recognized the evil lurking in the new prisoner’s eyes. 

Sure enough, Jon-Jon murdered Blood Pirate in the mess hall by pouring boiling water over him then slashing his jugular with a rusty metal nail. One minute Blood Pirate had been sitting at the dining table, living his best life (or worst life, if you considered the fact he was a convicted murderer). Then next minute he was dead. Just like that. 

It was the first time Jughead was given an eye witness look at death (if he didn't count watching the video of Clifford blowing Jason Blossom away), and he found the whole thing both sickening and incredibly brutal. 

But whilst the other prisoners had watched on in shocked silence, Jughead had quietly smirked – pleased with himself that his assessment of Jon-Jon had been correct. Their eyes met across the room, and the new top dog had smirked back at him, mistaking the expression on Jughead’s face for respect. 

After that night, nobody messed with Jughead again. The culture in the cell block shifted inexplicably with Jon-Jon in charge and for the most part Jughead was left alone entirely. He went about his days in peaceful solitude, made a few friends, worked in the prison library and was even able to finish high school and enrol in a few community college classes via correspondence. 

It was a tough life – hard and lonely, with the constant threat of danger lurking around every corner. But it hadn’t been the nightmare he thought it would be when he first arrived, and for that he was grateful. 

“Jones.”

Jughead sat up from his bed and peered out of the heavy-set door of his cell. There was a slightly overweight guard standing nearby, his hand perched lazily on the baton tucked into his belt. 

“Hey Lenny.” Jughead responded, raising his hand to wave.

“What are you doin’ in here? You should be out in the exercise yard. How many times do we gotta tell you that you can’t just go wherever you want? This here is a correctional facility not a shopping mall.” 

Jughead laughed then, because he knew Lenny was just teasing him. He was a model prisoner and the status had afforded him a few small luxuries, such as _slightly_ increased ease of movement from the common areas to his bunk.

“It’s my last day here. Just wanted some time to think.” he explained with an air of nonchalance to conceal his nervousness. 

“You’re shitting me? They’re letting you out? Those bastards on the parole board must be crazy.” Lenny chuckled, drifting closer to the open cell door. “You got a girl waiting for you back home?” 

“Nah.” Jughead shook his head firmly and ran a hand through his thick mop of dark hair. “She’s long gone.”

“She wasn’t worth it then.” Lenny said dismissively, and Jughead bit back the strong desire to correct the prison officer standing before him. She was worth it. Of course she was. She was worth so much he’d forced her out of his messed up life just to protect her. 

“Actually nobody knows I’m even coming home.” he admitted, somewhat sheepishly. “Not even my old man. I’m kind of going to surprise them.” 

Lenny laughed again. “Kid you’re really weird. Has anyone ever told you that?” 

“Maybe once or twice.” Jughead replied, feeling the smile tugging at his lips. “Maybe I even called myself weird.” 

That night as he lay on his cot in the pitch-black darkness listening to the shouts of an angry inmate somewhere nearby, he allowed familiar words to rattle through his brain. 

_In case you haven’t noticed, I’m weird. I’m a weirdo. I don’t fit in and I don’t want to fit in. Have you ever seen me without this stupid hat on? That’s weird._

Instinctively, his hand reached up towards the crown of his head and he sighed when he remembered that his precious beanie was considered contraband within the prison system. It had taken him weeks to adjust to life without it. It was his security blanket, his reminder of the goodness in his life, home and family. 

But tomorrow that hat would be returned to him, and he would place it atop his head like a warrior claiming his prize and walk right out of that prison – _never_ to return. 

Tomorrow he was going home. Tomorrow he would face the demons he had forced out of his life years ago. Tomorrow he would see his father again, and actually be allowed to hug him. 

Tomorrow he would do everything he could to avoid chatter about Betty or his old friends, but damn it tomorrow would be a good day. 

In the darkness of his cell, Jughead grinned and rolled over to face the wall as he let sleep finally claim him. 

The following day was a blur of busy activity that began promptly at 7.15am when the cell door was unlocked for the final time and Jughead was escorted by an officer to the reception area of the prison to process his release papers. 

He was reminded that he needed to contact his parole officer within twenty-four hours of his release and failure to comply could see him returned to prison to serve the remainder of his sentence – something Jughead planned to avoid at absolutely all costs. 

The belongings that had been stored away for him upon his initial arrival were produced in a thick transparent plastic bag. Jughead was quick to rummage through them and retrieve his beanie, before placing it firmly back on his head. He changed into the pair of black jeans, black tshirt and blue denim Sherpa jacket also contained within the bag then sat in a holding cell awaiting final processing. 

Finally, after one last humiliating strip search (which Jughead found entirely and completely superfluous) the exterior gates of the prison were opened and Jughead was pushed out into society. 

There was nobody in the parking lot to greet him. Of course there wasn’t – he hadn’t told anyone to be there. So he tucked the duffel bag containing his meagre belongings tightly against his side and made the hour long walk to the closest bus shelter that would take him back to Riverdale. 

Take him back home. 

The outside world seemed somehow brighter and more alive than when he had seen it last. The air was crisper and lovelier, the colours more vibrant. He wanted to smile at everyone he passed on the street and tell them about the beauty that surrounded them, but he kept his eyes firmly on the ground as he shuffled past, lest they realized the truth that he was nothing but a dirty felon. 

Jughead’s heart sped up explicably on the bus ride when he finally caught sight of the “Welcome to Riverdale” sign by the side of the road. Suddenly it all felt real. He was really there. It was really happening. 

He was a free man at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I will update again tomorrow with chapter 3!


	3. Enter the Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I still can’t believe you’re here and it’s really you!” Toni gushed, or as close to gushing as Toni ever managed. “I’m still so pissed at you for not letting me come visit you. What a shitty thing to do.”
> 
> Jughead sighed and ran his finger tensely around the rim of his beer bottle. “Yeah I’m sorry about that. I just really needed to focus on what was going on right in front of me. I couldn’t cope with reminders of home.” 
> 
> He really didn’t know any plausible way to explain that anyone or anything from Riverdale somehow managed to remind him of…her. The girl whose life he saved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your positive response to my writing! Having never written for Ao3 before I was so nervous and really had no expectation that anyone would like my story but I'm so grateful that you do!

Jughead stood in wonder, staring at the Whyte Wyrm at the end of the street.

For everything that had changed in his life, he felt happiness seeping into his bones at the realization that the Wyrm was still exactly the same as it was the last time he laid eyes on it. Same dirty brown wooden building with red awning at the front. Same parking lot. Even the row of gleaming motorcycles out the front filled Jughead with a sense of warm familiarly.

Most pleasing of all was the sight of his father standing atop the two concrete steps by the entrance to the bar, chatting with a small group of older Serpents. He had taken a calculated gamble that his father would be at the Wyrm, and his instincts had clearly been correct. Before he even knew what he was doing, Jughead’s feet propelled him eagerly in that direction. 

“Dad!” he called happily, waving his hand in the air. 

All eyes turned to him in stunned silence.

“…Jug?” 

Suddenly his father was rushing towards him and enveloping him in a crushing hug. Despite the fact his lungs were somewhat restricted by the strong arms encircling his torso, Jughead finally felt like he could breathe again. 

“Son what are you doing here? You didn’t escape did you? Oh Christ are the authorities looking for you?” 

Jughead laughed and pulled away from FP just enough to shake his head. “No Dad. I made parole.” 

There was a long pause before FP finally spoke. “Jug I’m so proud of you.” he said, his voice cracking with emotion as his arm snaked over Jughead’s shoulder and he started leading them both towards the front door of the bar. “Hey everyone my boy is home!” 

Then Jughead was surrounded by people who were welcoming him and slapping him excitedly on the back and telling him how great he looked. Caught up in the emotion, it took Jughead a few moments to realize that one of the members of the group standing around him was Alice Cooper. 

She was the only one not wearing a black leather jacket and she was hovering back a few paces, almost a little unsure. A warm Cooper smile was plastered on her face but she couldn’t hide the dark look clouding her eyes. 

As soon as he recognized her presence, Jughead could hear the blood pumping through his body manifest itself as a rhythmical thud in his ears. It was a little like he had tunnel vision and the world was closing in on him. 

He knew that returning to Riverdale meant he would eventually be confronted with news about the wonderful, perky life of Betty Cooper. He just hadn’t expected it so soon. Hadn’t expected that the fantasy version of her that he had constructed in his own mind would disappear so quickly, and be replaced by the true reality of everything she had achieved. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to be informed of all he had missed out on experiencing alongside her. 

“Hello, Jug Head….Jughead.” Alice said quietly, clearing her throat nervously. “I’m so glad you’re home.” 

“Thank you Mrs Cooper.” Jughead responded, not missing the pointed look that passed between his father and the woman standing in front of him. “So you’re a Serpent now?” 

A giddy laugh fell from Alice’s perfect pink lips at the mere suggestion. “First of all, I’ve been a Serpent since before you were born.” she said warmly. “But if you’re asking whether I’m an active member of the gang, the answer is no. Truth be told I don’t even live in Riverdale anymore. But I still visit from time to time and help out when I’m needed.” 

FP used the arm still slung around his son’s shoulder to angle him towards the empty industrial space across the road from the bar. It had been set up with party lights, wood for a bonfire, plastic chairs and tables for food and beverages. 

“The younger crew are holding a little party tonight.” he explained. “Ally here has just stopped by to deliver some snacks and fireworks.” 

The mere idea that a well-to-do upper middle-class woman had stopped by a dive like the Whyte Wyrm to deliver the bizarre combination of _snacks_ and _fireworks_ was only not insane because that woman was Alice Cooper. All the Cooper women were complete enigmas. 

“Oh. How are…” Jughead shook himself and swallowed any questions about Alice or her family. “How are the younger crew?”

“Well they’re just fine, Jughead.” this time it was Foxhunter who replied. He was a much older Serpent who very much resembled a stereotypical biker with mutton chops for facial hair and full sleeves of ink down both arms. “There’s so many of ’em now it’s hard to remember all their fuckin’ names.” 

As if on cue, the sound of motorcycles rumbled in the distance and at least a dozen bikes appeared at the end of the street. As the group descended on the parking lot of the Wyrm, Jughead could see some of the bikes carried only one rider, while others were riding two up. It was the younger crew as FP had so aptly described them. Jughead estimated probably twenty young Serpents, all dressed in varying shades of black and flying club colors.

“Maybe we should all go inside.” Alice said, suddenly appearing nervous again.

“Yes let’s go inside. Come on Jug, you up for a drink?” FP asked, a forced lightness to his voice. 

Jughead dutifully followed the older Serpents and was almost through the iconic red panelled door to the bar when he heard the bike motors shut off behind him and he glanced back over his shoulder. 

Jughead’s eyes skimmed the pack and straight away he spotted some familiar faces. For one, Joaquin was back riding with the group. He wondered how long the older boy had laid low after Jason’s murder before returning to the Southside. 

Sweet Pea was there too, alongside Fangs who was riding two up with a girl on the back of his bike. The girl was wearing a full faced matte black helmet with the visor flipped down so all Jughead could see was her long blonde hair spilling out of her helmet and tumbling effortlessly down her back. Not immediately knowing her, his eyes kept moving until they finally settled on Toni Topaz.

Toni was just swinging her leg to dismount her bike when she looked up and saw him. She let out an excited shriek that caught Sweet Pea’s attention. Still the tallest member in the pack, Sweet Pea’s eyes followed Toni’s stare apprehensively until he also caught sight of the boy standing at the door to the Wyrm.

To Jughead’s surprise, Sweet Pea scoffed and threw him a stare fouler than anything he’d ever received during his time in prison. He indicated for Fangs to look in the same direction, and then suddenly both boys were shooting daggers at him. It was certainly not the welcome home greeting he was expecting. 

Before Jughead could ask them what their issue was, Sweet Pea hurriedly raced over to the girl on the back of Fangs bike, scooped her up and tossed her easily over his shoulder. She let out a squeal of delight, somewhat muffled by her helmet, but she didn’t protest as Sweet Pea ran across the road with her and planted her down on one of the bench seats set up around the still unlit bonfire. 

Fangs walked over and whispered a few harsh words to Toni, who rolled her eyes at him but then nodded, before she turned back to Jughead with a lopsided grin and raced up the short staircase to wrap her arms around him. Jughead immediately relaxed into the hug, his arms coming to rest casually on the tiny girl’s waist. 

“Welcome back Jones!” she declared, her warmth seeping into him as she clung to his denim jacket. “You scoundrel, what are you doing here? Did you escape?”

“Why the hell does everyone keep asking me that?” Jughead laughed. “Do I look like the kind of guy to mastermind a prison break? I made parole for fuck’s sake.” 

Toni laughed then too, even as she let go of him and motioned for him to follow her inside the bar. “Care to join me in a celebratory welcome home drink?”

Jughead considered her suggestion, then hesitated. Instead, he motioned back over to the party site across the street, where Sweet Pea, Fangs and the new girl were sitting huddled together on a bench seat, their backs all to the Wyrm. 

“Wait,” he started diffidently. “What was all that about? Why did Sweet Pea give me the stink eye?” 

“Who knows.” Toni replied flippantly. “Maybe he has his period. Come on, let’s go in.” 

Recognizing for the first time that both his father and now Toni were trying to get him inside and probably out of sight of the younger crew, Jughead firmly planted his feet. 

“Who is that?” he asked curiously. “That girl?”

Looking once more, Jughead noticed the unknown girl had finally removed her helmet. But still all he could see was the long golden hair that skimmed her waist in casual waves and the custom pink snake patch on the back of her black leather jacket. She motioned expressively with her hand and though she was too far away for Jughead to hear her, he saw the two boys flanking her dissolve into fits of laughter. It was almost like they were lapping up her attention. 

“That’s Queenie.” Foxhunter said, appearing suddenly from inside the bar.

Without waiting for a response, the older Serpent sauntered out the door and straight past Jughead and Toni, carrying a small keg clearly meant for the party. 

Toni audibly sucked in a lungful of air but said nothing as her eyes bore into Foxhunter’s back. 

“Is she Sweet Pea’s woman? Does she belong to him?” 

If Jughead was being perfectly honest with himself, he didn’t care who the girl was or what she was doing with Sweet Pea. He only wanted to know why two young men he’d previously considered his friends had obviously developed anger issues towards him. He simply figured when boys acted stupidly a girl was inevitably involved. 

“Not really. She belongs to Sweet Pea and Fangs, and they belong to her.” Toni answered, clearly being careful in the words she chose. “They’re joined at the hip, those three. Like the three musketeers or something. Nothing romantic, as far as I know – just platonic.”

Jughead furrowed his brows at her response. “I thought you were the third musketeer in that little group? Wasn’t it always you, Fogarty and Sweet Pea? Didn’t you three all grow up together?” _Same as me, Archie and Betty_ , he silently added to the end of his own sentence. 

“Sort of. I guess.” Toni shrugged, and this time Jughead did allow her to lead him inside the bar. “We still all hang out sometimes. I mean Queenie and I are friends too. Usually. It’s not like I have hard feelings about being replaced...” 

Jughead made a mental note that Toni clearly had hard feelings about being replaced. 

Suddenly, as if drawing a line in the sand and putting the serious conversation behind them, Toni’s face lit up into a beautiful smile. “I’m honestly so excited that you’re back Jug. Can I get you a beer?” And then she raced off toward the bar before he could even agree. 

Just like the exterior of the Wyrm, Jughead took the time to observe that the inside was also still exactly the same. Musty and seedy and stereotypical and glorious. It truly did feel like coming home. 

Jughead could see Alice Cooper across the room talking heatedly with FP, her arms gesticulating wildly. That was something new, he supposed. He would probably never become accustomed to seeing Alice in the bar, acting like she belonged. But at least she hadn’t yet mentioned _she-who-shall-not-be-named_.

Moments later Foxhunter appeared behind Jughead yet again, this time sans the keg as he made his way to the office up the back behind the bar. He clearly hadn’t gotten the memo that the conversation topic had been updated. 

“Queenie rules the roost around here.” he said brusquely. “Everyone loves her. Especially your old man. You want to know why they call her Queenie? Because she’s treated like royalty.” 

“Erm…thanks Fox. I’ll keep that in mind.” Jughead mumbled, really not that interested in the girl across the street who was presently sandwiched between his former friends. 

Toni reappeared, handing over a frosty beverage, and together they took a seat near the pool tables. Jughead was grateful that there was no perceived awkwardness between them. It was very much just like old times. Almost like he hadn’t been away for nearly four years. 

“I still can’t believe you’re here and it’s really you!” Toni gushed, or as close to gushing as Toni ever managed. “I’m still so pissed at you for not letting me come visit you. What a shitty thing to do.”

Jughead sighed and ran his finger tensely around the rim of his beer bottle. “Yeah I’m sorry about that. I just really needed to focus on what was going on right in front of me. I couldn’t cope with reminders of home.”

He really didn’t know any plausible way to explain that anyone or anything from Riverdale somehow managed to remind him of… _her_. The girl whose life he saved. 

“Well I’ll forgive you, Jones. But just this once. Okay?” Toni smirked. “Next time you go to jail if I’m not on the visiting list I’m taking you off the Christmas card list.” 

Jughead gasped and threw a hand across his heart in mock horror “Take my life but not my Topaz Christmas card!” he laughed, before letting the smile slowly fade from his face. “I really did miss you, Tones.”

“I missed you too, pal.” she replied, her own smile reaching her eyes. She stretched across the table to playfully punch him in the upper arm. 

“You know I was so worried that today was going to go horribly.” Jughead admitted, taking a swig of his drink. “I think that’s a big part of why I kept my parole a secret. I didn’t want to have expectations of some happy homecoming that didn’t exist. I can hardly believe I’m saying this, but today has definitely not sucked.” 

Jughead, being Jughead, should have realized that saying such a thing out loud could only lead to negative outcomes for himself. Bad luck followed the Jones men around, whether they liked it or not. He should have known better than to tempt fate. 

Because it was at that exact moment that the front door of the Whyte Wyrm swung open and the new girl Queenie came breezing inside. 

In the split second it took Jughead Jones to turn in her direction, he could tell that she was slim built and lithe. He noticed her black combat boots. Then her impossibly long legs on full display in a barely-there pair of denim shorts. Then her black tank top partially hidden beneath her Serpent jacket with the signature pink snake patch. And then her silky mane of blonde hair, that he could now see included wispy tendrils highlighted an alluring shade of baby blue. And then finally her face. 

Jughead could do nothing except blink and sit statue still in dazed silence. It was like his limbs had turned to cement and he was suddenly so heavy he couldn’t move or speak or even think straight. 

The girl, obviously completely unaware of his presence, rushed past him and across the bar where she quickly caught the attention of FP and Alice. 

“Mom!” she cried happily. “I just noticed your car in the lot. Pretty please with sugar on top tell me that you managed to find us some fireworks?” 

Alice and FP, for what they were worth, both outwardly grimaced and their eyes flashed straight to where Jughead was sitting. Why, he wasn’t quite sure. Perhaps to gauge his reaction to the absolute horror story that was unfolding in front of him? To see whether or not he planned to up and flee the building? 

Noticing that everyone was silently gawking at her, and that the woman she had addressed as mother was staring at a spot behind her shoulder, the girl slowly turned to face the door again. 

Blue eyes met green. 

For Jughead, it was almost as if the lights physically dimmed around him. His heart dropped into his stomach and his stomach dropped into his pelvis. His brain went foggy and his eyes were blurry and his ears were ringing and his palms were sweating. A total body meltdown. 

This. 

This right here was his worst nightmare. 

This wasn’t some new girl called Queenie. 

This was Betty fucking Cooper. 

And she was a Southside fucking Serpent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like at this point a little PSA is needed to just confirm this story is 100% bughead and neither Toni nor Sweet Pea will be written in any way other than as platonic when it comes to their relationships with Jughead and Betty. 
> 
> I'm editing the next chapter and will hopefully upload it tomorrow :)


	4. The Betty Cooper Appreciation Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Is this some kind of sick joke?” Jughead demanded. He spun around to face his father and Toni, who were both lingering anxiously a few feet behind him. “Does someone want to explain this to me?” 
> 
> “Jughead…” FP said placatingly. “Why don’t we go inside, and we can discuss this further?”
> 
> “Are you kidding me right now?” he responded incredulously, before pointing a finger accusingly in Betty’s direction. “I went to jail for that girl. I gave up years of my life for a crime I didn’t commit just to keep that girl safe. I sure as hell didn’t destroy my life just for her to become a gang member. How could you let this happen? Dad? How?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! This chapter is probably going to swing the story in a bit of an unexpected direction but please stick with me! This is a slowwwww burn and I want to properly tear these two crazy kids down before I build them up again and push them back together. 
> 
> Oh and a friendly reminder that there is zero romantic connection between anyone in this story other than Bughead (well maybe a few hints at Falice...but definitely no need to worry about Sweet Pea or Toni)

Betty was the first to react. 

She audibly gasped, her hand flew to her mouth and her eyes welled with unshed tears.

“Juggie?” she whispered so softly he had to strain to hear her. “Wha-”

Before she could even finish the sentence, the door to the Wyrm was pushed open so aggressively it slammed loudly into the adjoining wall. Fangs and Sweet Pea stormed across the floor with murderous looks on their faces, clearly intent on intervening.  


In one swift, almost perfect choreographed movement, Sweet Pea came to stand between Jughead and Betty so that their view of each other was almost completely obscured while Fangs clutched at Betty’s arm and started physically dragging her back towards the door. Betty, seemingly in shock, put up no resistance whatsoever and allowed herself to be ushered away. 

“You stay away from Queenie.” Sweet Pea sneered, asserting his dominance by raising himself up to his full height and looming over Jughead. “You hear me? You stay away from her or I’ll damn well deal with you myself.” 

He kept his eyes trained firmly on Jughead as he backed slowly towards the door and then with one final grunt he turned and pushed Fangs and a stunned Betty outside into the parking lot. Their exit came as unexpectedly as their entrance, and the bar was suddenly plunged into a state of tense silence. 

It was Toni’s timid hand reaching across the table to tentatively touch Jughead’s arm that finally shook him from his confused stupor and spurred him into action. 

He was angry. 

Just…so very, very angry. 

With no conscious thought in his head, Jughead pushed himself off his stool and charged after the trio. He pulled back the metal handle on the Wyrm’s red and gray front door with such force he was almost surprised when the wood didn’t splinter from the hinges. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was aware that Alice, FP and Toni were all hot on his heels, but he paid them no heed. 

Sweet Pea, Fangs and Betty were wrapped in a huddle near their bikes. Both boys had arms firmly swathed around her, but she was shaking her head and trying to pull away. 

Jughead’s boots crunched underfoot and alerted them to his arrival. This time it was Fangs who tried to block his path, but Jughead was more the physical equal of the darker Serpent, so he felt confident enough to grab him by his jacket lapel and roughly shove him aside. 

Betty looked over at the scuffle and an unreadable expression briefly passed across the features of her face before evolving into something equal parts horrified and devastated. Sweet Pea reacted by hugging Betty to his chest and swinging their bodies around to shield her from the unfolding scene. 

“See? I told you.” Sweet Pea hissed in her direction, before he firmly turned his attention to Jughead. “Jones stay back.”

Jughead knew just how easily Sweet Pea could make good on the threat he'd made inside the bar, but sensed he was reluctant to resort to violence while he was nursing the blonde in his arms. 

“Betty!” Jughead snarled, tugging on Sweet Pea’s shoulder and trying to force the pair to turn around and face him. “Betty what the hell? Why aren’t you in college, Betty?” 

All Jughead could see of Betty was her hands, with perfectly manicured black nails, grasping tightly to the back of Sweet Pea’s waist. As the words left his mouth, he watched Betty’s knuckles turn white as she increased her grip on the leather of Sweet Pea’s jacket. 

“Is this some kind of sick joke?” Jughead demanded. He spun around to face his father and Toni, who were lingering anxiously a few feet behind him. “Does someone want to explain this to me?” 

“Jughead…” FP said placatingly. “Why don’t we go inside, and we can discuss this further?”

“Are you kidding me right now?” Jughead responded incredulously, before pointing a finger accusingly in Betty’s direction. “I went to jail for that girl. I gave up years of my life for a crime I didn’t commit just to keep that girl safe. I sure as hell didn’t destroy my life just for her to become a fucking gang member. How could you let this happen? Dad? How?”

“Stop it, Jughead!” Alice demanded, first forcing her way past Toni and FP and then rushing past Jughead. “You’re scaring her.”

Together, Alice and Sweet Pea clutched at Betty’s shoulders and started shifting her across the road towards the party site, with Fangs bringing up the rear. Jughead could see Betty’s back trembling and hear the unmistakable sound of her quiet sobs. Still, it took his brain several moments to get his fury under control and recognize that she was really upset. 

Suddenly Jughead realized he may have gone about the confrontation in entirely the wrong way. But before he could even attempt to apologize, FP threw him a disgusted look and shook his head.

“Jug I thought you were better than this.”

It was the sight of his own father racing after the retreating group without so much as a backward glance in his direction that finally caused the lump to rise in Jughead’s throat. It reminded him so much of his mother packing a sobbing Jellybean into the car and heading to Toledo, never to return. 

Jughead feared he was going to cry and that was absolutely the last thing he needed or wanted. His mind still a jumbled mess, unsure what to feel or think, he turned away from the broken scene in front of him and started walking away from the Whyte Wyrm.

“Wait. Jug, wait!” Toni called anxiously after him. “Where are you going?” 

“Home.” he managed to spit the word through gritted teeth. 

He could hear the hollow _click click click_ of her heels on the asphalt as she ran after him, but the sound only encouraged him to increase his speed. He needed to leave this whole messed up situation behind. 

“Wait!” she called again, more desperate this time. “Your home isn’t in that direction.” 

Jughead stopped abruptly and spun around to face her. “The trailer park is that way.” he said brusquely, indicating the way in which he’d been headed. 

“Yes.” Toni conceded, a little out of breath as she finally caught up to him. “But you don’t live in the trailer park anymore.” 

“…what?” he gasped. “What are you talking about?” 

The day was going from bad to worse. On a scale from one to train wreck, Amy Schumer had absolutely nothing on his life. He almost wished he was still back behind bars, in the relative safety of structure, monotony and isolation. 

Toni clenched her jaw so tightly Jughead saw the muscles protruding near her ears, and then she rolled her eyes. “You mean FP didn’t tell you?” 

There was silence as Jughead watched his friend intently, waiting for her to explain herself. When she was less than forthcoming with information, he prompted her with increasing anger (which was an impressive feat, given how angry he already was about the fact the sweet and innocent girl he’d gone to prison for had somehow turned herself into a gang banger while he was gone). 

“Tell me what? Fuck. What, Toni? Tell me.” 

“Your dad bought the Wyrm last year, Jug.”

Once again, Jughead found himself utterly shocked into a state of silence.

“You live here now. In the apartment up top.” she continued slowly, as if she was afraid to spook him. “I don’t know why your dad didn’t tell you. He was so proud. Maybe he wanted it to be a surprise…”

Jughead furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and looked past Toni to the Whyte Wyrm. For the first time, his eyes moved past the entrance to notice the curtained windows on the second floor. It had never occurred to him before that somebody lived there. It was certainly outside Jughead’s realm of possibilities that his father would live there.

‘I don’t…I just…” he spluttered. “My dad was working construction for Fred Andrews. He could never afford this place.”

“He has one of those – what do you call them? Oh yeah. He has a silent partner.” she explained clumsily. “Anyway, come on upstairs and I’ll show you around. The great news is this place has two bedrooms, so you get your very own permanent room here. Aren’t you excited?” 

“Christ…” he muttered as he started following her back towards the bar and up a set of stairs. “I need a cigarette.” 

Jughead felt around in the back pocket of his jeans and the relief was palpable when his hands gripped the well-worn cardboard pack he was searching for. Smoking was a poor habit he’d taken up as a non-violent way to kill time and quietly blend in prison.

He’d always sworn he’d quit the day he became a free man, but given the unpredictable way his day was panning out, it was then and there he decided to give himself a little leniency and try quitting again the following morning.

The little white stick of salvation was still dangling from his lips, just waiting for Jughead to dig the lighter out of his backpack, when Toni swung the door to the apartment open and physically shoved him inside. 

“Welcome to Casa Jones!” she declared, her arms opening wide as she spun in a slow circle to show off the space like one of those young overly-enthusiastic models on The Price is Right. 

Jughead ignored her eagerness, took a deep breath and carefully appraised the apartment that would now be his home. Absolutely nothing about it screamed _‘Casa Jones’_.

For starters, not a single piece of furniture from their trailer had made it to this place. At least not from what Jughead could see where he was standing. 

It was a decent sized space, not too huge but not too cramped - an open concept with a small but functional kitchen painted an oddly enticing colour too dark to be called mauve but too light to be eggplant. An island benchtop separated the cooking area from the joint living and dining room. 

The floor plan was fine, but the furnishings were not at all what Jughead was expecting. It looked like someone had lost their mind at an Ikea store as the dining table, book shelves, coffee table, floor lamp, art work and rug all screamed _Hej, trevliga möbler! Accepterar du Amex?_

The white leather couch opposite the flat screen television was undoubtedly the center piece of the apartment. It admittedly looked rather comfortable and added a certain touch of class. But stylish white furniture couldn’t be further from anything Jughead ever expected to lay eyes on in a Jones residence. 

In actuality, Jughead was so utterly confused by the entire apartment he couldn’t stop his jaw from going slack; the cigarette tumbling ungracefully from his open lips and landing soundlessly on the hardwood floor at his feet. 

“So, what do you think?” Toni smirked. “Do you love it?” 

The words cut through him like a knife. No, he didn’t love the apartment. 

Even completely disregarding the fact that Betty was downstairs doing her best Mad Max impersonation, this wasn’t the homecoming Jughead had spent years dreaming of. This wasn’t a homecoming at all anymore - because this wasn’t even his home. It was a stranger’s home. This was just a prison cell dolled up with a shag pile rug and a canvas landscape of New York nailed to the wall. 

Suddenly overcome with anger once again, Jughead dropped his backpack next to the discarded stick of nicotine and stormed into the kitchen. He pulled open the top drawer and gasped at what he saw.

“These forks!” he growled. “These are not my forks.” 

He turned to look behind him. “That toaster is not my toaster. Those plates are not my plates.” And then to the benchtop nearest the living room. “And that is definitely not my fruit bowl. Why the fuck do we even own a fruit bowl? Jones men don’t eat fruit. Where is my stuff?”

To say Toni looked perplexed was a grand understatement. She quirked an eyebrow and pursed her lips in confusion at his little outburst. “I just want you to know that whatever you’re throwing down here, I’m not picking it up. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“My stuff, Tones.” Jughead scowled. “Where is all my stuff?”

Not waiting for an answer, he left the kitchen and crossed the room to look out the window next to the cliché Ikea Billy Bookshelf. Even with the sheer curtains drawn, he could clearly see down to the parking lot and across to the party site. 

He had a clear view of Betty, in her stupid Serpents jacket with her revealing Serpents clothes and her trendy Serpents hair. She was perched precariously on a brick fence, with her head hidden in her hands. The others were huddled around her – her mother sitting to her left, Sweet Pea to her right, Fangs leaning up against the fence next to him and Jughead’s own father crouched in front of her. 

Jughead couldn’t hear what they were saying through the thick glass of the closed window, but he could see his father’s fingers moving soothingly to try and pry Betty’s hands away from her face. He could also see the way he lovingly peered up at her and how Sweet Pea had angled his body so close to Betty’s as he whispered in her ear. Jughead didn’t need to be a lip reader – he could clearly perceive the physical and emotional closeness of them all. 

Not for the first time in his life, Jughead felt inexplicably like an outsider. 

“I’m sorry you weren’t warned about her.” Toni sighed, sliding over to the couch and flopping down onto the cushions. “We didn’t know you were coming home. Your dad would have told you about Queenie if –”

“It’s Betty.” Jughead seethed through gritted teeth, his back still to the room. “Don’t call her that ridiculous name. Her name is Betty.” 

“Well your name is Forsythe, but we all still call you Jughead?” Toni joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Her words backfired on her immediately as Jughead spun to face her, his eyes full of fire. “This is not up for negotiation. I’m so mad right now I could kill someone. If you want to be my friend at all you’ll call her Betty. Got it?” 

Toni swallowed heavily and nodded, raising her hands in defeat. “Sure, okay, pal. Whatever you say.”

“How long has she been here? With the gang?”

Toni nervously bit the inside of her cheek. “A long time. Since a few months after you left for prison.”

Jughead’s reaction to that horrifying piece of news metamorphosed itself in a physical way as he yanked the gray knitted beanie off his head and tossed it angrily in Toni’s direction. It landed several inches away from her on the arm of the couch. 

“I don’t know what to tell you, Jug.” Toni muttered, seemingly shrinking under the force of his gaze. “She’s very ingratiated with the gang. She’s one of us, just as much as you are. I don’t know how to get rid of her – trust me, I've tried more than once over the years.”

Naturally that information piqued Jughead’s interest, but he tried to play it off as coolly as possible. “You tried to get rid of her?” 

“Quee – _Betty_ and I haven’t always been the best of friends.” Toni admitted, clearly not prepared to elaborate further. “But if I’d ever managed to drive her out…those guys would have pulled her right back in.”

“You don’t just mean Sweet Pea and Fangs, do you?” Jughead asked, his voice suddenly quiet. “You mean my dad too. Right?” 

Toni nodded. “You want to know why they call her Queenie? It’s because she’s Queen Bee. And all the other Serpents just fall into line behind her. Especially your dad. She’s…untouchable. I don’t know what to tell you.”

_Untouchable._

The word rattled around in Jughead’s brain like a loose bolt in a washing machine. Feeling the fight leave his body, he groaned and sank onto the couch beside his friend. He instinctively reached for his beanie and forced it back onto his head. 

“Sorry for the way I reacted.” he said sheepishly. “I just don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about this. I really thought by cutting Betty off when I went to jail she would go on to live this amazing life without me. Rainbows and unicorns, you know? I didn’t ever mean for her to end up here. This isn’t the life she was supposed to have.” 

In his peripheral vision, Jughead could see Toni nodding pensively beside him. She reached out a hand towards his upper arm, then clearly thought better of it and shoved it back down into her own lap. 

“Look Jones,” she said seriously, straightening herself on the seat. “This isn’t my story to tell. But what I will say is that Betty went through a very…rough time…after you went away. She was devastated by what happened and she didn’t always make the best choices. I understand the Serpent life isn’t what you wanted for her, but in a lot of ways it’s what she needed. The Serpents saved her from herself and even I can respect that.”

Jughead’s brows knitted together in worry and confusion, and his mind immediately went to a very dark place. “Toni what do you mean? Betty didn’t try to hurt herself, did she?”

Toni looked extremely uncomfortable and actually squirmed under his penetrating gaze. “I think you should talk to your dad or Betty about this.” she said resolutely before jumping to her feet and readjusting her mini skirt. “Anyway I’m late for my shift downstairs at the bar. Come down and visit me if you want?”

“Thanks Toni.” Jughead said, forcing a small smile. “Really. Honestly. Thanks for being there for me today. But I’m really exhausted and I think I’m just going to rest for a while.”

As soon as Toni shut the front door behind her, Jughead dragged his tired body off the couch and drifted back towards the window. Glancing down across the street he noticed that the bonfire was now lit and several young Serpents were making a start on their party, but the Betty Cooper Appreciation Club was nowhere in sight. 

Muttering under his breath about unhappy surprises, Jughead snatched his duffel bag off the floor and wandered lazily down the hall. The first door he opened revealed a small but functional bathroom, the second door led to what was clearly his father’s bedroom (the musty scent of Old Spice and an impressive floordrobe of flannels and dark jeans made it a dead giveaway) and finally at the very back of the apartment Jughead found his own room. 

He fully expected the room to be bare, given nobody knew he was coming home anytime soon. So when he opened the door all he could do was gasp in shock and let out a dry, incredulous chuckle. He could hardly believe his own eyes. It was…perfect. 

Jughead had no idea who could possibly have created such an amazing bedroom for him – certainly not his father. FP Jones II didn’t know the first thing about decorating and no mount of time away in the slammer was going to change that fact.

Two block mounted movie posters – one for Marlon Brando’s Last Tango in Paris and the other for Paul Newman’s Cat on a Hot Tin Roof – were proudly displayed above a simple bed dressed completely in black blankets and pillows. 

A book shelf in the corner had been neatly filled with an assortment of the classics, alongside true crime and mystery novels. His laptop and his vintage Underwood typewriter were sitting side by side on a small desk in the corner. It was a writer’s wet dream.

Atop the book shelf sat a row of silver picture frames, filled with photographs of the people he loved. Jughead’s eyes were immediately drawn to his favorite photo of himself and Jellybean, standing outside the old drive in. Next to it was a photo of six-year-old Jughead sitting on FP’s lap and smiling a toothless grin at the camera. There was even a photo of his mother – albeit as part of a larger family group shot.

His eyes scanned the remaining frames and the lack of blonde in any of the photographs was a sharp reminder that Betty was no long officially counted amongst his family. Of course it was a consequence of his own actions, but the outcome was still hurtful nonetheless.

Jughead sighed and tugged at a curl of dark hair that had escaped the confines of his hat. He knew he needed to fix the Betty situation and fix it fast – especially if they were going to be basically living inside each other’s pockets as part of the gang. He owed it to her and also to himself to cleanse the dank vibes hanging between them. 

She had obviously been shocked by his sudden appearance at the Whyte Wyrm and shouting at her in the parking lot before she even had a chance to speak probably hadn’t helped matters. Sweet Pea and Fangs added an unnecessary layer of complexity to the issue, but he supposed he would just have to find a way to deal with them as well. 

A knock at the front door jarred him from his thoughts and he rushed back down the hallway. 

“Tones did you forget something?” 

He swung the door open and there she was. 

Betty Cooper. 

In the flesh. 

Standing outside his apartment. 

There was absolutely no sign that she’d been crying not too long ago. Her makeup was impeccable, and her poker face firmly secured in place. 

Waves of blonde flashed past Jughead as she flicked her head sharply to the right and whipped her long hair over her shoulder in a move straight out of Cheryl Bombshell’s playbook. Her eyes were steely cold as she pushed down her shoulders, arched her back and sank her fingers into her hips. 

He opened his mouth to speak but the only thing that immediately came to mind was _holy shit this version of Betty is such a bad-ass_ (words that, whilst true, probably wouldn't prove to be overtly helpful at the present juncture). 

“Um, hi.” he finally managed to splutter. “I’m actually really glad you’re here. I think I owe you an explan-”

Betty raised her hands and clapped them aggressively about an inch from his nose. Jughead did his best not to flinch, but he felt a knot tightening in his stomach at her behavior. “Don’t think, Jones. It’ll only land you in trouble.”

“Look Betty can we just –”

“No.” she snapped, her voice laced with venom. “We can’t.”

Jughead was reeling now. Of all the reactions he’d been expecting the first time he finally saw Betty Cooper again…this one hadn’t exactly been on his short list. 

“First of all don’t call me Betty. My name is Queenie now. Understood?” she continued angrily. “Not that you’ll need to worry because after today I don’t plan on talking to you.”

“What?” he gasped. “But why?”

“I know you’re part of the Serpents. I know this is your home. Well the Serpents are my home too now.” she said, clearly intent on ignoring his questions. “I get that you hate me and that’s fine –”

“Betty I don’t –”

“Because I hate you too.” she finished with a salty snarl. “You hear me? Jughead Jones. I hate you. So stay away from me.”

Without another word she turned on the heel of her boot and stormed back down the staircase; disappearing quickly from view. 

Jughead stood motionless in the doorway trying his hardest just to remember how to breathe. 

There it was. The rotten cherry on top of the shit-flavoured cake. 

Betty Cooper hated him?

Betty Cooper hated him. 

“Welcome home, Jughead.” he muttered bitterly. 

Without another moment’s hesitation he slammed the front door shut.


	5. Not another Romeo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What does she think about all this? Betty, I mean.” Jughead asked, leaning forward a little to rest his elbows on the bar. 
> 
> “Oh man you’ve still got it so bad for her, don’t you?” Toni laughed. “I bet you have a whole list of questions just ready to ask about her. Go ahead then – lay them on me.” 
> 
> Toni's light-hearted words were enough for Jughead and a red blush once again crept across his cheeks with humiliation as she mocked him. First Joaquin and now Toni. How was he ever going to find his feet in the gang if they all just thought of him as some pathetic lovesick puppy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of update (especially considering I wrote this chapter weeks ago...) I have a sick baby at the moment so I haven't had a chance to turn on the computer. I'm trying to stick to no more than 4000 words per chapter to keep the plot moving quite quickly, but this chapter is much longer as I needed to cover a passage of time as well as Jug's transition back to every day life. Sweet Pea in particular may come across a little OOC in this chapter, but I'm basing my interpretation of him on the fun glimpses we saw in 2x10 (such as when he's play fighting on the steps of Southside High) as well as his more serious moments when he and Fangs are physically intimidating to others. Hope you enjoy the chapter! :)

_“Jones? Jughead Jones?”_

_Jughead glanced around the room at the hard-lined faces of those he was co-habitating with and wanted nothing more than to fade quietly into the background like a shy little wallflower. Every last one of these men was a potential threat. A devil in an orange jumpsuit._

_He precariously snaked his tongue out of his mouth to run moisture along his parched lips, and bit back a yelp as he remembered the beating he’d taken a few days earlier had left a split across the soft pink skin._

_“Jones? Where’s Jones? I won’t ask again.”_

_Jughead sucked in a lungful of air, exhaled slowly and deliberately, then stepped forward to make his presence known to the guard._

_“Um, yeah. Jughead Jones. That’s me.”_

_“What are you deaf or something?”_

_“I…um…no. Sorry.”_

_The guard rolled his eyes like he’d seen and heard it all a thousand times before. “You got a visitor.”_

_“Oh.” Jughead mumbled. “Who is it?”_

_“Who is it?” the guard scoffed. “What do I look like? Your secretary or something?”_

_Jughead momentarily panicked. He’d been in the prison for three weeks and had recently been granted visiting privileges but hadn’t really known what to expect when the first visitor finally arrived._

_One of the other inmates had tried explaining the visiting system to him. Different prisoners could be visited on different days of the week, depending on the letter of the alphabet their last name began with. It seemed like exactly the kind of contrived, archaic bullshit he could expect from the Department of Correction._

_“I just mean is it a male or a female?”_

_Jughead held his breath and hoped the uniformed officer standing before him would be even slightly helpful. His silent prayers were answered when the guard sighed exaggeratedly, looked down at his clip board and began flipping slowly through visitor applications._

_“Let’s see here,” he muttered. “Does the name Elizabeth Marie Cooper ring a bell with you?”_

_Jughead gasped and his hand went straight to his mouth._

_It was her. Of course it was her. Damn it. She wouldn’t take no for an answer._

_God, he missed her. Missed her voice and her golden blonde hair and the way her chin moved when she smirked at him._

_But he couldn’t see her. She couldn’t be at the prison. This wasn’t going to happen. She needed to know he was done with her. She needed to move on with her life._

_The guard must have seen the terror on Jughead’s face because he rolled his eyes again but then sighed and shook his head._

_“Listen kid. You’re new here so maybe you don’t know how this works. You fill in a visitors list, yeah? And if you don’t want someone to visit you then just don’t put them on the list. Capiche?"_

_Jughead smiled for the first time in what felt like weeks. A smile of relief._

_“Yeah. Thanks. Tell Miss Cooper I won’t be accepting her visit today. Or ever.”_

_Jughead bit down a lump in his throat as he dropped back through the crowd and made himself as invisible as possible. He could only imagine how disappointed she was going to be, standing just on the other side of that thick cement wall but unable to get through to him._

_He hated this. Hated it._

_But he was doing it for her._

_“I’m sorry, Betts.” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”_

Jughead awoke with a start and his hands went straight to his chest. His skin was slick with sweat, but he concentrated on slowing the rising and falling of his ribcage to carefully calm himself.

“Holy shit…” he muttered.

It was a dream. Only a dream.

Well, a dream of a memory, which was probably why it felt so real. He had to remind himself several times that he was okay, and a free man, and lying in his own bed in his own room in his father’s apartment.

Dragging himself off his mattress, Jughead glanced at the clock and noticed that it was almost five in the afternoon. He’d arrived home from a full, busy day just after three and collapsed on his bed for a few hours shut eye. He could hear a low rumble from downstairs – music and chatter and the clinking of glasses – and recognized that the Whyte Wyrm was probably starting to fill with patrons for the evening.

He dressed casually in a pair of dark denim jeans and trademark faded S shirt, with his crown beanie perched atop his head, then glanced over at his own appearance in the mirror. Jughead knew that he looked fine and normal. He looked like someone who hadn't just been languishing in a jail cell for nearly four years. But the truth was he felt tired, old and conflicted.

A dull headache had materialized behind his eyes and he still trying to process the magnitude of his own freedom. After all the drama of the previous day, FP had tried to step up and play the role of the super supportive dad. Not long after Betty absconded from the apartment door, FP had appeared with a big white paper bag filled with Pops cheeseburgers to celebrate his only son’s homecoming.

But Jughead had surprised even himself by announcing he wasn’t hungry and dragging himself off to his brand new yet unfamiliar bedroom. He hadn't anticipated how hard it would be to re-adjust to life on the outside. Certainly not this life. Certainly not a life where Betty Cooper was a Serpent and far more ingratiated in his own biker gang than he was.

Jughead could barely even believe the reality of his situation - all the long years he had fantasized of being at home, tucked up safely in his own bed, and yet his first night back in Riverdale he'd barely slept a wink.

He figured it was a combination of the quietness of the night outside the penitentiary, the fact he was sleeping in a strange place and confusion about the unexpected way he had interacted with Betty.

At least the hours he’d lain awake in the darkness had given him time to think – and the dream he’d just been jolted from had certainly cemented his newly borne theory. As far as theories went, it was pretty simple: Betty was angry with him.

After months of refusing her visits, sending back her letters and completely avoiding any news of her, it made sense that Betty was holding a grudge against him. She had loved him and he’d probably devastated her through his actions (or his inaction, whichever way he chose to look at it).

Sweet Pea and Fangs? Well those two still made very little sense to him. Sure, he’d cut them out too along with the others, but he doubted they lost any sleep over it. They’d clearly formed a close bond with Betty over the years, but he wasn’t sure that constituted enough of a reason to treat him like a monster.

It was a matter he intended to get to the bottom of sooner rather than later, if only for the sake of his own sanity. He felt the need to clear the air with Betty as acutely as he could feel the air burning in his lungs when he held his breath too long.

So when he padded down the internal stairs from FP's apartment to the back of the Whyte Wyrm and saw Betty sitting in his dad's office, he didn't suppress his compulsion to stop and talk to her.

She was curled up in FP's worn leather chair, leaning over his desk amongst a mass of books and papers. Her hair was neatly braided in two bunches down either side of her head and her face was sans heavy make-up. Gone was her black leather jacket and skimpy biker girl clothes of the previous day, replaced with a simple cerulean tank top and stonewashed jeans.

She had never looked more radiant; deep in thought and utterly concentrated on whatever she was reading. She raked her top teeth across her bottom lip as her eyes moved quickly from left to right across the page. Every so often she would pause to jot down a few words in her notepad.

Jughead didn't hesitate before raising his hand to the open door and tapping lightly on the faded wood panelling. Her eyes snapped up toward his, and for a moment he undoubtedly saw happiness cross the features of her ethereal face before her angry mask slipped into place and her mossy green eyes turned steely cold once more.

"Hey there." he started softly. "Mind if I have a word?"

For a long moment she said nothing at all. She simply sat there staring at him, seemingly frozen in space and time, hunched over the desk with her legs tucked up underneath her like a newborn foal. She looked child-like and innocent, but Jughead knew she wasn't the sweet and innocent sixteen-year-old he'd left behind. Hell, she really hadn't been innocent even back then. But definitely sweet. Probably even too sweet for her own good.

"Absquatulate." she said finally.

"Huh?" he frowned, his wandering mind pulled curtly back into the present. "I don't understand."

Betty abruptly pushed her legs out from under her torso so that her boots hit the linoleum beneath her with a loud thud. She snatched a pen off the table, scribbled furiously on the notebook in front of her then roughly tore the page from the book and folded the paper in half. Jughead then watched as she reached down to hoist her backpack off the floor and shove her books inside in one swift motion, before rising to her feet and heading straight for him.

"Here. Maybe this will help you understand." she seethed as she slammed the paper roughly against his chest.

His hand automatically moved to grab the paper before it fell to the ground, and their hands briefly touched in the process. Jughead felt electricity tingle through the nerve-endings in his fingertips all the way up through his arm and then down his spine. His whole body felt warm and alive, like he’d just been doused in scorching water. Touching Betty Cooper was like a drug, that clearly hadn't changed. It probably never would.

Before he could say anything in response, she pushed past him and rushed out of the office, leaving him alone.

Jughead nervously looked down and smoothed open the paper she had uncouthly thrust upon him.

 _Absquatulate._  
_[verb]_  
_To flee or abscond abruptly._  
  
Jughead sighed deeply and crumpled the paper inside his fist before tossing it in the trash can. He shook his head at his own stupidity – _mind if I have a word_. He should have known this version of Betty was enough of a smart ass to respond in such a way.

_Absquatulate._

"No kidding, Betts." he muttered angrily under his breath.

After taking a minute to bring his emotions back under his control, he followed after her. He crossed the hall from the office, through the kitchen and out to the public area of the bar.

Jughead spotted her immediately, even through the haze of the smoky room and the steadily building crowd of afternoon patrons. It was almost as if he had an inbuilt Betty radar in his brain that drew her to him like a magnet.

She was on the other side of the pool tables, closer to the front door, tucked against Sweet Pea's side. His arm was slung over her neck, possessively holding her shoulder as he spoke leisurely with some of the other young Serpents.

Betty turned her eyes back towards Jughead almost as soon as he entered the bar area, as if she too possessed a similar radar. But her eyes narrowed in open hostility and she icily shook her head, as if warning him to stay away from her. Not knowing what else to do, Jughead mimicked her angry glare and then turned away and stalked back to the safety of the back end of the Wyrm.

He was unsurprised yet grateful when he noticed Toni working behind the bar. She offered him a broad grin and waved as she spotted his approach, then frowned when she took in his defeated body language.

"Hey there, Green Mile. Why the long face?" she asked.

"Rough day." Jughead shrugged, taking a seat opposite her.

She laughed and passed him a beer. “Want to tell me about it? I hear bar tenders are especially good listeners.”

“Where to begin?” Jughead shrugged again, before downing half the bottle in one swift mouthful. “I met with my parole officer this morning. A flaming shit of a gentleman named Barry Caldwell who proceeded to tell me that he doesn’t trust me to be good and will be watching me very closely for the next three years.”

Toni scowled and dropped the cleaning rag she’d been holding onto the slick surface of the bar. “What do you mean closely?”

“I need to report to him twice a week, and I agreed to let him put a tracking device on both my phone and my bike.”

“The hell, Jug? That’s illegal!” Toni gasped, drawing the attention of several nearby drinkers.

Jughead sighed and ran his hand across his tired face in frustration. “Yeah I’m aware. But what am I supposed to do? I mean it’s against my parole conditions to fraternize with any person I know to have a criminal record. That’s pretty much everyone here – including my own dad. The guy has me over a barrel right now so I just have to go along with his totalitarian regime.”

“I’m so sorry, Jones. That blows.” Toni sympathized.

“Oh I got a job today too.” Jughead continued, finishing off the last of his beer and signalling for her to pass him another.

“But that’s great!” she gushed, then knitted her eyebrows apprehensively when she noticed he wasn’t excited. “Isn’t it great?” she watched him closely for another few moments before sighing. “Why isn’t it great?”

“On Monday through Wednesday from here on out I’ll be packing boxes in a toothpaste factory.” Jughead deadpanned.

Toni’s eyes widened significantly before she burst out laughing. “Oh Jug, I’m sorry.” she managed to say through peels of giggles. “But come on you gotta admit that’s pretty hilarious. You think you’ll get a staff discount? Gotta take care of them pearly whites.”

Before Jughead could respond, a thundering burst of laughter erupted from across the room. He looked over his shoulder and caught sight of Sweet Pea, Betty and three of the young Serpents enthusiastically enjoying a joke. He couldn’t help thinking that they’d heard Toni laughing and decided to one-up them by laughing bigger and louder.

He sighed, readjusted the beanie on his head and turned back to Toni with a disgruntled look on his face. She had moved a few feet away to serve Joaquin, so he shuffled off his stool and made his way toward them.

“You know I found her in my dad’s office earlier. What was she doing in there?”

“You mean Queenie?” Joaquin asked, tipping his head lazily in Betty’s direction. “Your one true love?”

Jughead felt his face flushing with embarrassment, even though he knew Joaquin was only joking. Was that really what the Serpents thought of him? That he was nothing more than some lovesick puppy pining after the Cooper girl?

“She’s not…what you just said.” he mumbled. “I just don’t know why she was in the office.”

Toni glanced first at Joaquin then Jughead as she shrugged. “FP lets her do what she wants.”

“Also, her Mom owns the place.” Joaquin added nonchalantly, taking a sip of his whisky.

Toni audibly gasped and shook her head sharply at Joaquin, but the damage had already well and truly been done. Jughead’s mouth fell open in shock as he slammed his beer down on the counter.

“What do you mean?” he demanded. “I thought _my dad_ bought the Wyrm?”

“He did.” Joaquin responded, evidently set on ignoring the penetrating gaze of Toni Topaz. “He and Ally are partners.”

Jughead immediately remembered Toni mentioning a silent partner the day before, but he’d never in a million years have imagined it would be Alice Cooper. It was just so…unexpected.

“Well what does Hal have to say about that?” he spluttered.

“Hal Cooper?” Joaquin scoffed. “Nobody’s heard from that jerk since he and Ally got divorced three years ago. He migrated up to Nova Scotia and got remarried to that Blossom woman.”

Joaquin must have seen the horrified look on Jughead’s face because he smirked before he continued. “Her crazy daughter moved there with them. Rumor has it she likes to call him daddy and do naughty things with him when Mommy isn’t home.”

“Oh Christ, Joaquin! So gross!” Toni cried, equally appalled as Jughead. “Get outta here before I kick your ass!”

Joaquin chuckled mirthfully to himself, but dutifully collected his glass of whisky off the counter top and retreated from the bar area.

Jughead took a deep breath in an attempt to steady his racing heartbeat and then ran his hand absently across his mouth.

“I’m sorry.” Toni sighed. “I didn’t want that news just dropped on you like that. It’s kind of shocking, huh?”

“Does Betty live somewhere nearby with her mom?” Jughead finally asked, once he regained the ability to make vocal sounds.

“Nah. Alice lives over in Greendale now.” Toni replied. “Her other daughter Polly lives there with her kids. But they visit.”

Jughead nodded and mentally filed that information away for later. If Alice Cooper lived in Greendale with Polly and the twins, there was still hope for Betty to possibly leave the Serpents, move away and get her life back on track. She could start afresh in Greendale and live that fairytale she’d always deserved.

Though Jughead did wonder why she was still living in Riverdale at all, if her entire family had moved away. There were too many important puzzle pieces evidently still missing.

“What does she think about all this? Betty, I mean.” he asked, leaning forward a little to rest his elbows on the bar.

“Oh man you’ve still got it so bad for her, don’t you?” Toni laughed. “I bet you have a whole list of questions just ready to ask about her. Go ahead then – lay them on me.”

Toni's light-hearted words were enough for Jughead and a red blush once again crept across his cheeks with humiliation as she mocked him. First Joaquin and now Toni. How was he ever going to find his feet in the gang if they all thought of him as some pathetic Romeo?

He was already the sap who'd gone to prison for her. The last thing he needed was to add the humiliating attribute of _sad stalker boy_ to his reputation. Especially because Betty was making it so clear she wanted him to stay well away from her.

He clenched his jaw tightly shut and silently resolved not to openly talk about Betty again, at least not amongst the other Serpents. As far as the gang would be concerned, his affiliation and interest in Betty Cooper was as dead as Jason Blossom.

The fact Jughead had spent the past four years fantasizing about her and her perfect hypothetical life was wholly irrelevant. The truth that she still occupied majority of his waking thoughts, and he was desperate to know both what she was doing in the gang and why she now despised him was nobody's business but his own.

"Earth to Jughead." Toni's voice reverberated through his wandering mind.

"Look, I know you think you're funny." Jughead huffed in response. "But drop the Betty stuff, okay? I'm sick of hearing about her."

"What are you even talking about? You're the one who brought her up." Toni was clearly holding back yet another laugh, which Jughead chose to ignore.

"Well now I'm ending it." he snapped. "I'm over it and I'm over her. Consider the topic of conversation null and void."

Toni looked like she wanted to say something controversial, but after an extended pause she closed her mouth and simply nodded. "You got it, Chief."

After that, Jughead found it relatively easy to shut down any conversation that seemed like it was heading down a dangerous path towards the one and only Betty Cooper. He'd simply roll his eyes at anyone who mentioned her (and by her, he meant that God awful nickname she seemed to have successfully woven into common Serpent vernacular) and grumble that he wasn't interested in hearing about it.

Time moved on, as time usually tended to do. The hours became days and the days became weeks. Jughead slowly acclimatized to life in the outside world and developed a routine of sorts.

He'd never been a routine driven youth, but prison had positively influenced him in that regard. He found himself continuing to crave a regimented daily schedule as he transitioned back to life as a free man.

Every morning he awoke promptly at six am, rolled out of bed and dropped straight into his standard two hundred push-ups (which always made him feel a little like one of the douchebag football jocks from Riverdale High) and then went for a long run to clear his head.

The three days a week he was at work were the most tiresome and monotonous, particularly as he'd worked in the prison library, so he wasn't accustomed to the menial labor-intensive tasks that the factory mandated. After work, he usually ate dinner with his father – who was trying super hard to be eagerly supportive, but falling just short of the mark - before wandering down to the bar to socialize.

Jughead’s group of friends had swollen to include Joaquin and a newer Serpent named Paulie - something Jughead was grateful for as it made him seem less like a tiresome loner and also took the pressure off Toni to constantly babysit him.

At the core of Jughead’s routine was his regime of covertly observing Betty from afar. He quickly had her daily schedule committed to memory, much the same as his own.

For example, he knew not to expect her to make an appearance at the Whyte Wyrm in the evenings on Tuesdays or Wednesdays, but she was usually there in the mid-morning on Thursdays, sitting in FP’s office. On Fridays and Saturdays she almost always arrived in the late afternoon and stayed in the bar until close.

Jughead’s first observation was that when Betty was in the Wyrm, he could similarly expect Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum to be there right alongside her. To his surprise, Jughead often witnessed Betty, Sweet Pea and Fangs doing unimaginably immature things to keep themselves entertained - it was carefree, youthful behaviour he'd never expected from Betty and a stark reminder that he really didn't know much about this new version of her.

He would even extend that thought to say he didn’t know much about the new versions of Sweet Pea or Fangs, either. They’d always been such quiet, serious teenagers – lurking dangerously in the background, their hands idly fingering the switch blades in their pockets.

For all that they were still serious and foreboding, there was often also a lightness to them. As a threesome Betty and the boys were generally loud and obnoxious in their happiness.

It was a playfulness he’d seen in Sweet Pea once or twice, never in Fangs and not once in Betty since they left elementary school. If Jughead was deeply honest with himself, it brought him some kind of satisfaction to see Betty happy - even if it was without his involvement.

One day he watched them spend almost an hour in the parking lot trying to teach each other to do handstands. On another occasion they spent a considerable amount of time standing at opposite ends of a pool table tossing skittles into each other's mouths.

Then there was the excessive drinking, which to Betty’s credit she usually only involved herself in on Saturday nights. Jughead could never have imagined a drunk version of Betty standing on top of a bar in a room full of rough bikers belting out the Star-Spangled Banner (in perfect pitch and tone, despite the fact most of the words were slurred) until he actually witnessed it for himself.

One afternoon, when the bar was relatively empty, Jughead came downstairs to find them goofing off near the stage. Betty and Fangs had dragged stools over to the bottom of the wooden platform, whilst Sweet Pea gyrated against the pole in a series of dance moves clearly meant to satirically replicate the tawdry women who often performed there.

They were cackling like grade school children and shouting "Take it off, baby! Take it off!" like it was the most hilarious thing they'd ever seen.

After a few minutes, Sweet Pea launched himself off the stage and pushed a giggling Betty up to take his place. Without hesitation she gripped the pole and spun twice before dropping into an exaggerated shimmy then launching into a bastardized version of some kind of Britney Spears dance (circa 2001 when her dances were still fun – long before the head shaving incident). Jughead knew she was trying to be funny, and he had to admit she was succeeding.

But at the same time, seeing her so natural and at ease as she danced was perhaps the sexiest he'd ever seen her. It was absolutely nothing like the awkwardly uncomfortable Serpent dance she'd performed on that same stage back when they were sixteen. Jughead kept himself hidden behind the partially closed kitchen door and wantonly drank in the sight of her until one of the chefs arrived and he scuttled away before he was seen.

It wasn't until almost two weeks after his return to Riverdale that Jughead entered the Whyte Wyrm and found for the first time _some_ but not _all_ members of the infamous trio were present. It was only then that it occurred to him their constant togetherness had been more a show of solidarity for his benefit, rather than the actuality of their situation. They weren't, in fact, joined at the hip as he had previously surmised.

When Betty and Sweet Pea were together, they tended to be louder and more social. They'd move easily amongst the other young Serpents, laugh more, play pool and darts, and generally draw attention to themselves. They were the life of the party, and often very affectionate with each other.

Jughead reminded himself over and over that Toni had assured him their friendship was purely platonic, and it was only watching Sweet Pea hook up with a busty brunette at the bar one night in full view of an unconcerned Betty that Jughead's mind was put at ease.

The times when Sweet Pea was absent, and just Betty and Fangs were together, Jughead saw a completely different side of her. A side that reminded him a lot more of the Betty he'd known when they were younger. The pair would sit together up the back of the Wyrm and let the party come to them, rather than bringing the party to everyone else like Sweet Pea did.

They still talked with the others and laughed and drank, but there was a subtle stillness to them. They were happy to sit quietly together, sometimes even in companionable silence. On more than one occasion, Jughead witnessed them leaning up against each other while Betty quietly read a book. It reminded Jughead so much of the times he and Betty had done the exact same thing back in his trailer, and made him yearn for the past.

It was a Friday night, three weeks after his release, when Jughead got his first true glimpse into the life of Betty Cooper. Betty and Fangs were running without Sweet Pea that evening, instead choosing to hang with a larger group of Serpents. Jughead was across the room playing pool with Joaquin (with one ear clandestinely trained on Betty's conversation, as per usual) when an unexpected situation erupted. Betty was making her way towards the bar to order another round of drinks when a group of inebriated transients visiting the Wyrm decided to approach her.

Jughead strained but failed to hear their conversation through the exuberant noise of the popular venue. He did see Betty politely shake her head, then a scowl crossed her face as her body language became serious and defensive. Suddenly one of the more intoxicated of the men reached out to physically grasp her hips and pull her roughly toward him.

Jughead reacted immediately; dropping the pool cue and starting to propel his way through the crowd to reach her. As fate would have it, Fangs had also been keeping a close eye on her and moved from his perch at the same time. His proximity being much nearer than Jughead’s, he reached Betty first.

Fangs swung an angry punch toward the asshole who’d dared to touch her and the whole bar fell silent as his fist connected with the flesh of the drunkard’s face. Without waiting for the retaliation that was possibly coming, he snatched Betty by the wrist and dragged her towards the front door.

It took all of Jughead’s willpower not to follow them and demand to know if Betty was okay. But he knew it wasn’t his place anymore, so he turned back to Joaquin and wordlessly snatched his pool cue off the floor. His heart was still hammering in his chest at the mere thought of anything untoward happening to her, but none of the other Serpents needed to know that.

“I’m pretty tired. I’m going to call it a night.” he muttered, leaving the game of pool half-finished and heading towards the stairs that would lead him to the apartment.

“All right man, catch ya later.” Joaquin shouted after him, amusement dripping from his voice.

It was some hours later when a noise in the darkness startled Jughead awake. He sprang up to a sitting position, the crisp white sheet pooling around his hips and legs at the sudden movement.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his unruly black hair and glanced over at the Ikea digital clock on his Ikea nightstand that helpfully informed him it was almost three in the morning before flopping his head back down onto his Ikea mattress.

At first he assumed it was his father’s soft snores coming from the adjacent bedroom that had woken him, but then he heard a grunt and a shout of protest from somewhere outside his window.

The living room of the apartment faced the front of the Wyrm and gave him a view of the parking lot. But his bedroom was at the back of the apartment and his window looked out over the road behind the bar and a rather squalid industrial space.

Hearing the grunt again, Jughead gasped and stumbled out of bed to race across to the window and peer outside.

There, illuminated by the light of the glistening full moon, Betty Cooper was standing with two shadowy figures.

For the second time that evening panic tore through Jughead like a hot knife. He lost his balance and almost stumbled into the wall in his haste to snatch a pair of sweat pants off the floor and come to her rescue.

It was the sound of her impudent voice, unexpectedly loud in the silent stillness of the very early morning, that abruptly halted his movements.

“Pea this is so stupid. I know how to take care of myself. You’ve taught me all this stuff ten times before.”

“Oh yeah?” came the equally audacious response. “Then why did Fangs have to knock some guy’s head off in the bar tonight?”

Jughead crept back over to the window and cautiously peered out again. Sure enough, the two ominous shadowy figures were none other than Fangs Fogarty and Sweet Pea…whatever Sweet Pea’s last name was.

“Hey I didn’t ask Fangs to help me.” Betty protested angrily.

“Queenie you just stood there and let that douchebag paw at you like an animal!” Fangs snapped at her. “What would you have done if I wasn’t there?”

“I was in a room full of Serpents.” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest in defiance. “You think they wouldn’t have protected me?”

“Jughead was there.” Fangs admitted, his voice turning serious. “He was on his way over to intervene, I’m sure of it.”

Jughead’s eyebrows rose in shock at the mention of his name and he strained his eyes to catch the expression on Betty’s face. He wasn’t at all surprised to see she was scowling. He didn’t need any more evidence to confirm what he already knew – she hated him.

“Jughead was probably on his way over to offer to let those men kidnap me.” Betty snapped. “We all know he wants me gone. We’ve all seen the way he constantly glares at me.”

Jughead felt the heat rising his chest and neck as anger boiled in his veins. He couldn’t believe that was Betty’s opinion of him. That she actually thought he was going to sacrifice her security just to be rid of her. He wanted to open the window far enough to stick his head out and scream she was wrong.

“Well that’s just another reason for you to learn self-defence, Queenie.” Sweet Pea glowered at her. “Arms up.”

“It’s the middle of the night. Can’t this wait until morning?” she sulked, still not making a move to uncross her arms.

“No. None of us are sleeping tonight until I know you are safe.” Sweet Pea said resolutely. “Arms up.”

Betty let out an exaggerated sigh and finally assumed a fighting stance, raising her hands to protect her face.

Fangs, physically closer in height to Betty, stood opposite her and raised his own arms in a similar defensive stance.

For the next half an hour, Sweet Pea instructed her through a series of punches and parries while Fangs acted as her dutiful sparring partner.

Jughead watched, mesmerized by the scene below his window. For the first time in the three weeks since his return from prison he found himself unable to hate Sweet Pea or Fangs.

Instead, he was grateful to them. Grateful that they’d spent the past four years protecting Betty when he couldn’t, and grateful that they continued to protect Betty even now when she decidedly wouldn’t let him. 

The fact Betty despised him was an ever-burning unresolved issue in Jughead’s mind, but when he finally crawled back into his bed sleep claimed him quickly and he slept restfully. It was the peaceful slumber of a young man who knew that Betty Cooper was safe and secure.

And that she packed a really mean right hook.


	6. A Many Splendored Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead was completely unprepared for the physical attack and thrown backwards, his head connecting roughly with the wooden staircase behind him. 
> 
> Sweet Pea’s hands moved to lock themselves around Jughead’s throat. Instinctively Jughead threw his own hands up and latched them around Sweet Pea’s wrists to try and loosen the vice-like grip.
> 
> In the end, it was Fangs who intervened – using all of his strength to physically pull Sweet Pea’s body away and then coming to stand between both men like an unhappy referee. Jughead’s hands moved to his own throat, feeling for damage as his neck throbbed in intense pain and he gasped desperately to fill his burning lungs with air.
> 
> “Leave him alone.” Fangs spoke lowly to Sweet Pea, tugging on his jacket and trying to shift him towards the office. “That piece of shit isn’t worth it.”
> 
> But Sweet Pea evidently wasn’t quite done yet, as he reached down once more and grabbed hold of the lapel of Jughead’s Sherpa jacket so intensely that he lifted Jughead’s torso clean off the staircase.
> 
> “You are ruining Queenie’s life.” he growled dangerously, his face pressed inches from Jughead’s. “Do you understand? You stay away from her."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your support on my last chapter! I know this new chapter is even more depressing than the last but I promise there's only one more sad chapter until I put poor Juggie out of his misery, shed some light on Betty's odd behaviour and start the process of bringing Bughead back together.

Women.

Jughead hadn't understood them when he was a boy, and he certainly didn't understand them now he was a man. Or whatever ageist label it was they put on 21 year old males these days.

For starters, why did girls always smell nice, even when they were covered in sweat? Why was it so utterly impossible to tell what they were thinking? And what was the deal with frenemies?

Jughead didn't know a lot about frenemies, but he was pretty certain that's what Betty and Toni were to each other.

It had been just over a month since his return to the land of the free and just over a month of covertly observing Betty. That included her regular interactions with his very own pink haired BFF (another female term that he didn't truly grasp the meaning of).

Often he caught them metaphorically shooting daggers at each other across the floor of the Whyte Wyrm or muttering nasty words about each other under their breaths. Once he witnessed them breeze through the front door, arms laden down with retail bags and giggling like school girls as if they'd just spent a leisurely day shopping together at the Mall of Bizarro in the Upside Down.

Twice he'd heard them shouting at each other behind closed doors. On another occasion he even spied them sitting near their bikes in the parking lot, happily painting each other's toe nails.

The truth was, he had no idea how to take their relationship or figure out what they actually meant to one another. Were they friends? Were they enemies? Were they just two girls thrown serendipitously into the same biker gang and forced to co-exist? As long as he maintained his ban on speaking to Toni about Betty, or speaking to Betty at all, he assumed he would probably never know.

Nonetheless he, along with the rest of the patrons of the bar, was stunned into silence the night the iconic red panelled door of the Wyrm burst open and Toni came storming inside, physically dragging a downcast and tearful Betty behind her. She was clutching so tightly at Betty's wrist that Jughead could see the skin around her hand turning a strange blotchy shade of red.

It was a Tuesday night, so Jughead honestly hadn't been anticipating the appearance of Alvin and the Chipmunks (or Betty and the Dipsticks, as he'd taken to sometimes calling the trio) at the bar. And although Fangs and Sweetpea were still nowhere in sight, he certainly hadn't been expecting an openly seething Toni to appear out of nowhere with Betty in tow.

Jughead was sitting at the 'big boys' table with his dad and some of the older Serpents, engaging in a little father/son bonding time along with a riveting game of poker. Despite living together and making an effort to sit down and eat dinner with one another most nights, the poker game was really the first time since Jughead’s release that he and his father had actually come together to hang out in a social setting.

This being one of the nights Jughead knew not to expect Betty at the bar (thanks to his pitiful encyclopaedic knowledge of her schedule), he found himself able to properly relax and was truly enjoying both the closeness with his dad and the camaraderie with the others at the table. For the first time in a long time he didn’t feel like an outsider, which was quite a refreshing change.

But the one thing Jughead could count on in life, was his own rotten bad luck. He should have known something would come along to ruin his fun. And here she was. Or rather, here _they_ were. The ineffaceable Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen of the big, bad biker world. And shit was clearly about to go down.

Toni's penetrating brown eyes scanned the room, before locking directly onto the table where Jughead was sitting, then she began moving in his direction. For the briefest of micro seconds, Jughead thought perhaps the girls were seeking him out. He immediately felt his palms go slick with sweat and he sat up a little straighter in anticipation of their arrival.

But of course Toni was actually making a beeline for the man sitting directly to his left - the illustrious leader of the Southside Serpents. It wasn't about Jughead. Nothing ever was.

Toni stopped at the edge of the table and waited for FP to roll his eyes in mild disgust and lay his cards down, before she leaned towards him and whispered hastily in his ear.

FP's reaction was so visceral that it manifested itself physically. Jughead watched as his father's eyes immediately turned dark, he clenched his jaw so tightly his teeth audibly crunched and even his hands balled into fists. Slowly but deliberately, he turned his head to look directly at Betty.

"Girl. You better be kidding me." FP seethed at her.

Betty said nothing; the only sound coming from her being the whistly squeak of her nose as the air rushed in and out of her body at an alarming pace. She was well on her way to hyperventilating.

"My office. Now."

The card game officially came to an abrupt end as FP stood from the table so brusquely that poker chips went flying onto the floor. He snatched his Serpents jacket off the back of his chair and marched into the office without so much as a backward glance. Toni immediately followed after him, having finally let go of Betty's arm.

Betty, in turn, hesitated for only a moment - her eyes glanced over to Jughead and they shared a lingering look. For the first time in a very long time, Jughead found she wasn't closed off and he could read her emotions through the windows of her blue-green eyes. She looked terrified, and tired, and sad. Maybe even a little bit desperate. More than anything, she seemed to be silently crying out for help. Like she wanted him to save her.

Seconds later the spell was broken, she turned sharply away from him and scuttled after FP.

Before Jughead could stop himself, he found himself rising to his feet and hurrying after them. Truthfully he had no idea what he was doing. It was almost as if his legs were moving of their own volition. His body's innate need to protect Betty Cooper at all costs was overriding the logical part of his brain that reminded him whatever was happening at that moment was not his business.

He reached FP's office just in time to see Betty enter and Toni appear in the doorway.

"No, Jug." she said softly but firmly. "Wait out here. This doesn't concern you."

And then the door was promptly slammed in his face.

Not knowing what else to do, and still feeling like he needed to offer Betty moral support - if only in the metaphysical sense - he lingered in the hallway. Over the constant clangour of the bar and undulating rock music, all he could hear from the other side of the office door was the low hum of agitated discussion.

Eventually, feeling like a bit of an awkward creep for loitering so close by, Jughead moved to sit on the second bottom step of the staircase and wait for the involved parties to emerge. Feeling feeble and frustrated at not being able to help, he pulled his beanie from the crown of his head and wrung it nervously in his hands.

Suddenly FP's thundering voice rose above the thrum of background noise.

"Damn it Elizabeth you lied to me!"

The words reverberated through Jughead like a scream at the Grand Canyon. He barely had a chance to process what those words could possibly mean when the shouting continued.

"You promised me it was over between the two of you!" and then moments later FP's furious voice came a third time. "You promised!"

Jughead's head snapped up so quickly he almost gave himself whiplash. It dawned on him very abruptly that the conversation taking place behind that closed office door sounded an awful lot like a relationship intervention. Suddenly feeling vulnerable, he pushed his hat back onto his head and pulled it firmly into place.

_Surely it couldn't be true,_ whispered the voice in his head. _Betty couldn't have a boyfriend...could she?_

But even as he thought the words, he knew he was being foolish. They’d been good together back in the day, but that was years ago when they were nothing more than a couple of naïve kids. Before murders and jail and biker gangs had opened their eyes to the realities of living the hard knock life.

Besides, he’d disappeared from her world so quickly and without good explanation four years ago. Had he seriously expected her to just wait around and pine after him for the rest of her life? It only made sense that she’d moved on. The fact he hadn’t reciprocated the sentiment in any way, shape or form and was still low-key obsessed with her wasn’t actually her fault.

Minutes seemed to pass like slow dragging hours as he tried to wrap his head around the idea that Betty had potentially found someone else. He was so consumed by his considerations that he didn’t see Sweet Pea or Fangs approaching until it was too late.

They were marching through to the back of the Wyrm so resolutely and with such conviction that it was obvious even to the uninvolved observer they’d been summoned. But before they could make it to the office, they spotted him sitting sombrely on the staircase.

“You sonofabitch!” Sweet Pea shouted fiercely, lunging at Jughead the moment he locked eyes on him.

Jughead was completely unprepared for the physical attack and thrown backwards, his head connecting roughly with the wooden staircase behind him.

Sweet Pea’s hands moved to lock themselves around Jughead’s throat. Instinctively Jughead threw his own hands up and latched them around Sweet Pea’s wrists to try and loosen the vice-like grip.

In the end, it was Fangs who intervened – using all of his strength to physically pull Sweet Pea’s body away and then coming to stand between both men like an unhappy referee. Jughead’s hands moved to his own throat, feeling for damage as his neck throbbed in intense pain and he gasped desperately to fill his burning lungs with air.

“Leave him alone.” Fangs spoke lowly to Sweet Pea, tugging on his jacket and trying to shift him towards the office. “That piece of shit isn’t worth it.”

But Sweet Pea evidently wasn’t quite done yet, as he reached down once more and grabbed hold of the lapel of Jughead’s Sherpa jacket so intensely that he lifted Jughead’s torso clean off the staircase.

“You are ruining Queenie’s life.” he growled dangerously, his face pressed down mere inches from Jughead’s. “Do you understand? You stay away from her, you fuck!" 

“What-what are you talking about?” Jughead managed to splutter through the bruises already forming around his voice box. “I haven’t even spoken to her for a month.”

“Good.” Sweet Pea said, dropping Jughead back onto the floor. “Keep it that way.”

Without another word, both Fangs and Sweet Pea turned and headed for the office. Fangs turned the handle and pushed open the door, but both boys then hung back a little to appraise the situation they were walking into. Jughead took the opportunity to do the same and immediately caught sight of FP perched on his desk. Toni was standing back closer to the corner with her arms hugged anxiously across her chest.

Betty was sitting in a chair pulled right up to the edge of the desk and FP was leaning over her in a menacing way that effectively trapped her in place. He looked superbly furious, and although Jughead couldn’t see Betty’s face he could tell from her body language that she wasn’t exactly happy either.

“But I love him!” she shouted. “Nothing else matters.”

“I know you do kid, but this has got to stop.” FP said, his voice surprisingly measured.

“I’m a big girl and I make my own decisions.” Betty responded defiantly. “You should know better than most people what it feels like to need to protect the people you love.”

It was at that moment FP looked up and noticed Sweet Pea and Fangs loitering near the doorway.

“Oh good, you’re here.” he said. “Come in boys.”

Sweet Pea and Fangs moved further into the room and then the door clicked shut behind them.

Once again Jughead was alone.

But this time, he’d been left broken on the floor – literally. Both physically and emotionally.

Betty was in love.

He knew it to be true because he’d just heard it from her own mouth.

Jughead was internally reeling. He was like Icarus, and Betty was the sun. He'd flown too close, his wings had melted and he'd fallen into the sea. Now he was drowning and there was nothing he could do about it.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he picked himself up and rushed upstairs to the apartment. He made a quick stop at the fridge to grab a cold compress for his throat, which was becoming increasingly sore, then hurried down the hall to his bedroom and slammed the door shut behind him.

He threw himself onto the bed, crawled under his thick black blanket and hid his face in his hands. He wanted to disappear and never be found. He wanted a vortex to open up and suck him through a wormhole to another dimension. He wanted a meteor to crash into Riverdale and knock the Earth off its axis, destroying gravity and allowing him to slowly float away into the omnipotent vastness of space.

“Jughead pull yourself together.” he muttered angrily, wiping at the tears that were somehow on his cheeks. “You knew this would happen. You knew she would move on. Stop acting this way. Stop it, stop it, stop it.”

He had to remind himself this was exactly what he’d intended to happen. All those years ago when he cut her from his life in order to protect Betty and ensure her happiness, that happiness definitely included love and marriage and children and everything else that went along with it.

He’d just never imagined her life revolving around his place of residence nor him having to actually see her go through it all. A sad, lonely bench warmer forced to watch on from the sidelines as Betty played the game of life with someone else.

A few hours later, or maybe a few minutes – Jughead lost all sense of time hiding underneath that blanket – he heard quiet footsteps padding down the hall and then knuckles rapping hesitantly on the wood of his door.

“Jughead…” came his father’s apprehensive voice.

Jughead held his breath and knitted his eyebrows together, unsure of whether he wanted to respond.  

“Son are you awake in there? I think we need to talk some things over.”

Jughead bit his lip to stop himself from calling out, instead turning over to face the window.

No, he definitely wasn’t ready to talk to his dad. Not about Betty. Not about the man who had replaced him in Betty’s heart. Not even about the reason everyone downstairs seemed so determined to intervene in her relationship.

Jughead didn’t hear FP leave, but he didn’t call out to him again. It was almost as if he could sense his father’s nervousness as he hovered on the other side of the door. Trying to avoid the aching in his heart, Jughead screwed his eyelids tightly shut and instead focused on silently counting backwards.

_One hundred…ninety nine…ninety eight…ninety seven…ninety six…_

Jughead opened his eyes and the first thing he noticed was that he was no longer underneath the blanket. Rather, the blanket was twisted around his waist and he had one leg hanging haphazardly over the edge of the mattress.

The second thing he noticed was the sunlight pooling through the open window. He didn’t remember falling asleep the night before, but given the circumstances and the fact it was now day outside, he’d clearly slept solidly for a number of hours.

Dragging himself out of bed, Jughead was struck by the silence of the apartment and decided that his father had probably already left home for the day. FP usually attended to Serpent business first thing in the morning before starting his official work downstairs at the Wyrm and it wasn’t unusual for father and son to miss seeing each other at breakfast.

It often felt lonely in the apartment in the mornings, but for once Jughead was welcome for the reprieve. He still wasn’t ready to mentally or emotionally face the events of the previous night.

Wednesdays was also a work day for Jughead, but he had been given an hour off in the morning to head across town to complete a check in with his probation officer.

It was an irony not lost on Jughead that despite the overwhelming majority of criminals in Riverdale residing on the southside, the regional parole office was firmly north of the unspoken border. At the very least it was a thoughtless oversight, at the most a deliberate attempt to make the hard lives of parolees just that little bit harder.

Jughead showered quickly, dressed for the day in his khaki green factory uniform (that was hauntingly similar to a prison jumpsuit – yet another irony in Jughead’s life) and snagged a ripe banana from that weird fucking fruit bowl that lived in the Jones kitchen and was seemingly always well stocked.

Motoring through the streets of Riverdale on his custom Honda CB550 (a bike his father had lovingly taken care of for him during his period of absence) Jughead felt more depressed the closer he got to the northside. It wasn’t that he’d deliberately been avoiding the other side of the town, it was just that the north held nothing for him anymore.  

Jughead had long since cut ties with the north – his old school, his old friends, his old hang outs. He hadn’t even been back to Pops yet. The happy memories of his childhood were not enough to draw Jughead back to the north for any length of time other than to visit stupid Barry Caldwell and confirm compliance with his parole conditions.

Whether he was right or wrong, Jughead felt judged on the northside and like every single person he passed on the street probably recognized him as the young boy from the wrong side of the tracks who’d brained that drug dealer and been sent to the Big House. The pretentious upper middle class inhabitants of the north were far less inclined to turn the other cheek and he felt somewhat like a target every time he stepped foot in their territory.

The visit to the parole office was fairly standard and didn’t take long – a routine drug test, questions about Jughead’s ongoing employment status and a pop quiz that seemed mainly to be about whether he had been involved in any illegal Serpents business. But unsurprisingly, the mere presence in the office was mentally draining and Jughead was keen to be on his way.

Helmet in hand, he kept his head down as he walked from the front of the office back towards his bike and his stomach dropped when he heard someone shout his name.

“Jughead? Jughead!”

Keen to ignore whoever had recognized him, Jughead swung his leg up over his bike and turned the key in the ignition to bring the motor to life. He was just clipping the strap on his helmet into place when a hand reached out to firmly grip his handle bar.

“Jughead. Hey! Didn’t you hear me shouting your name?”  

Jughead knew the voice – knew who was hovering over him. Yet when he looked up and caught sight of that mop of ginger hair and soulful brown eyes his first instinct was to cut and run. He just didn’t have the energy to deal with an emotional reunion.  

“Archie. Sorry, I guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

Archie looked older, and yet somehow still the same. He was broader in the shoulders and maybe carrying a few extra pounds of weight (something Jughead figured was pretty normal for jocks once they finished high school and no longer had ready access to athletic pursuits like football and basketball).

He was dressed in an _Andrews and Andrews Construction_ shirt, beige chinos and Timberland boots.  Jughead was at first confused, then glanced past his old friend and spotted a construction site directly across the road. As the realization dawned upon him, Jughead fought the urge to roll his eyes. Because of course Archie Andrews was working a job mere feet away from the parole office.

 “The universe really hates me.” Jughead muttered under his breath.

Despite his strong desire to rev the accelerator and burn some rubber as he tore off down the street, he knew he was effectively trapped now. Archie was looking at him so keenly, and there would be no escape. He sighed and pulled the key from the ignition.

The second he was off the bike, Archie stepped forward and wrapped him up in a warm hug. Jughead knew he should feel elated, but really he felt nothing other than slightly uncomfortable. The awkwardness wasn’t only due to the way he’d craftily extracted Archie from his life when he went to prison.

The truth was he and Archie had been moving in completely different directions for many months leading up to his incarceration. It had started way back when Archie blew off their much-hyped summer trip to partake in creepy sexcapades with the music teacher. Their friendship had never truly recovered as Jughead’s allegiances quickly realigned first with Betty and then the Serpents, whilst Archie’s loyalty shifted to Veronica. He had nothing against Archie, but their glory days of friendship were certainly long behind them.

This was a fact clearly lost on Archie as he squeezed Jughead so tightly he was sure he heard a few ribs pop. Archie was acting like he’d just been reunited with his long lost puppy.

“I can’t believe it’s really you!” he gushed, stepping back a little to hold Jughead at arm’s length. “Gosh Jug when did you get back? Why didn’t you call me? This is crazy! I would have come to meet you! I’m so excited to see you bro!”

Jughead swallowed nervously and gently extricated himself from Archie’s grip. There was no easy way to admit he’d been back for over a month and deliberately made absolutely no effort to get back into contact with his former best friend.

“Uh, my release is just very…recent.” Jughead stumbled clumsily, rubbing the back of his neck with the palm of his left hand to fend off anxiety.

“You have time to grab a coffee? Let’s go grab a coffee.” Archie said enthusiastically.

For the first time literally _ever_ , Jughead was glad that he was due to start his shift at the toothpaste factory and didn’t have any time to spare. “Sorry I’m kind of running late for something. Maybe next time?”

Archie’s shoulders slumped momentarily, before the animated grin reappeared and the rapid fire questions continued.

“How does it feel to be back? Where are you staying? Have you seen your dad? Who else have you seen?”

“Yes I’ve seen my dad – I’m actually living with him.” Jughead chuckled nervously as he tried his best to answer each question from the verbal onslaught. “As for anyone else – I guess the only person from our old life that I’ve seen is Betty.”

“Betty…” Archie murmured fatefully.

A weird look crossed his features, but he recovered quickly and tried to hide it. For a popular jock he’d never been the most careful of liars, and Jughead could see the happy smile that returned to Archie’s face was no longer genuine.

Suddenly finding himself scrambling to fill an uncomfortable void in conversation, Jughead blurted out some questions of his own. “So how have you been, Arch? How’s your dad? How’s Veronica?”

This time Archie reacted with an uncharacteristic level of petulance. “Ronnie and I broke up back in senior year. A lot of bad stuff went down and we tried to make it work but…Betty came between us in the end.”

Jughead’s skin physically prickled as the words left Archie’s mouth. For a long sickening moment he thought one of his worst fears had come true and the mystery boy Betty was in love with was Archie. It made perfect sense, after all. She’d been in love with him when they were kids and it only logical that she’d run back to seek comfort from her first love after Jughead ghosted her.  

But then he looked up at Archie’s eyes and saw nothing but hate nestled there. No, Betty wasn’t Archie’s love interest. If anything, it looked like Betty was persona non grata.

“So she’s still hanging around FP's gang then I assume?” Archie scoffed when Jughead slowly nodded. “Oh man please don’t tell me you’re back together with her.”

“To be honest we’ve barely spoken two words to each other. She doesn’t want anything to do with me.” Jughead admitted. “We aren’t even friends.”

Archie visibly relaxed and sighed in relief. “Thank God. She’s bad news, Jug. You need to keep away from her.”

“What do you mean? What happened?” Jughead asked, momentarily forgetting his self-imposed ban on involving himself in Betty’s life. He knew Archie wouldn’t judge him for asking questions like the Serpents would.

“You mean you don’t know?” Archie spluttered. “After you went away Betty lost her mind. She was running around getting herself involved in all types of really bad stuff.”

Jughead’s heart was hammering in his chest and he felt flush with unease. All sorts of scenarios quickly rushed through his mind with drugs and self-harm right at the top of the list.

“She did some really awful stuff to Ronnie and she ended up going back to New York just to escape it all. Betty ruined our relationship, Jug.” Archie said ominously. “Worse still – she stole from me and my dad.”

“Stole?” Jughead gasped.

The drugs scenario jumped all the way to the top of Jughead’s mental short-list of ‘really bad stuff’ Betty had done four years ago. But could she really have resorted to something as awful as opioids to dull the pain of him leaving? And would she have stolen from her next door neighbors to feed a drug habit? Jughead remembered Toni mentioning something about Betty going through dark times. It was all starting to make sense.

“Stole a lot.” Archie affirmed seriously. “The business almost collapsed. We had to sell our damn house just to keep the business afloat. She almost destroyed us.”

Jughead was so shocked by Archie’s words he physically stumbled back a few steps and then gasped in surprise when his legs thumped against the cool metal of his bike. Suddenly he couldn’t even think straight.  

“Betty did that?” Jughead’s dazed voice came out as nothing more than a painful squeak.

“I’m being completely serious.” Archie said ominously, before glancing back over his shoulder at the construction site. “Look I gotta get back to work. But it’s been so great to see you, Jug. Honestly. We’ll catch up soon, okay?”

Archie reached out a hand to pat Jughead on the arm in a gesture of friendly goodwill (as if he hadn’t just dropped a massive and frankly devastating bombshell on him) before rushing back across the street.

Jughead waited until Archie completely disappeared before allowing his head to drop into the palms of his hands.

"Betty, Betty, Betty..." he whispered to himself. "What on Earth have you done?" 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arghhhh sorry for the cliffhanger! Poor Juggie - I feel so bad for him. If it makes you feel any better he's totally wrong about everything he thinks he knows about Betty. More shenanigans in the next chapter and then Betty's truth will be revealed.


	7. Enter the Ghoulies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead had drifted half into a dream when the gun shot went off. 
> 
> He flew out of bed as if he personally had been shot. Before any logical thought could enter his mind, his bare feet were propelling him down the hallway and opening the front door to the apartment. 
> 
> There were only three people in the entire world that Jughead truly loved. One of them lived in Toledo and hadn't been allowed to talk to him since his incarceration. The other two were downstairs in the Wyrm - possibly in mortal danger. He just needed to get to them. He just needed to make sure they were okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thank you for some wonderful feedback on my last chapter! 
> 
> This upcoming chapter is pretty much the 'low point' in the story and things will finally start getting better for our protagonist in the next chapter. Definitely some answers are coming Jughead's way very shortly. 
> 
> Oh and sorry for any spelling mistakes! I don't have a beta and I'm extremely tired this week so my proof reading seems to be failing me.

It had been six long, torturous, sleep-elusive nights since Jughead Jones last laid eyes on Betty Cooper.

After the blow-up in FP's office the previous Tuesday evening, which Jughead hadn't stuck around to witness the no doubt epic conclusion to, she had been noticeably absent from the bar or any other Serpent endorsed activities.

Sweet Pea and Fangs made an appearance in the Wyrm on Thursday evening, hanging with the rowdy younger crew and acting like nothing was out of the ordinary. There had been no mention of the missing Cooper girl or what that meant. Though as far as anyone else was concerned he couldn't care less about Betty, so it was unlikely any of the parties involved saw a reason to provide him with an explanation.

Jughead spent the week oscillating wildly between being deeply resentful towards Betty for moving on without him and addled with worry that the others clearly felt the need to interfere in her relationship. It had to mean she was being mistreated or taken advantage of. Maybe even hurt. The mere idea of Betty being abused made him physically sick to his stomach.

The fact she hadn't been sighted for almost a week only lent itself to further panic attacks. Wild scenarios ran through Jughead's mind - the best case being that she'd run off with this guy and the worst case that he'd chopped her up into little bits and hidden her under the floorboards of his house.

Adding to his worries was the layer of complexity inadvertently heaped on the situation with the news that Betty had done something quote unquote _really bad_ back in high school. So bad that Veronica had retreated back to her home town of New York with her tail between her legs, and Fred Andrews was forced to sell his house just to keep his business afloat. It was like something out of a really bad Lifetime movie.

After several nights of little to no sleep, and completely broken routine, Jughead was almost at the point where he was willing to cave in on his own promise to himself and just ask Toni or his father to tell him everything. He was sure they knew where Betty was. They'd been walking around as if nothing was wrong and there was no way they'd be so calm if Betty was actually in dire trouble. 

Jughead had planned to ask his father that morning before he went to work. But when he finally found the energy to drag his sorry butt out of bed, Jughead found himself alone in the apartment and Daddy Serpent nowhere in sight. 

After a full day of arduous toil at the toothpaste factory on the corner of Main and Shithole, all Jughead wanted to do was rush back to the sanctuary of his home and demand answers from FP. But instead, he'd been forced to endure a low-key awkward dinner with Archie Andrews at Pops.

Ever since running into Archie on Wednesday morning of the previous week, Jughead had been subjected to a slew of eager phone calls and text messages. In Archie's own words, he thought it was 'super great' that Jughead was finally back home and they ought to 'catch up' and 'hang out' as soon as humanly possible.

Jughead didn't have the heart to tell Archie that the bromance between them was well and truly over, and the fact he hadn't contacted Archie during the four years of his incarceration nor sought him out in the month since his release from prison should have been indication enough that he neither wanted to ‘catch up' nor 'hang out'.

The truth remained that Jughead felt completely disconnected from his old Riverdale life and the players within it - Archie included (Betty being the obvious exception). But he suspected if he didn't acquiesce to Archie's passionate requests, he would soon escalate his invitations to appear on billboards, radio jingles and maybe even some sky writing.

So Jughead dutifully sat in a booth at Pops and let Archie talk his ear off for almost three hours about mind-numbingly boring topics including but not limited to potential risk hazards at construction sites, the cost of good quality scaffolding, how many girls he'd slept with since he broke up with Veronica and the merits of supporting the New York Giants as a sporting team.

Apart from asking twice whether Jughead liked working at the toothpaste factory (to which Jughead replied "it's fine" on both occasions) and offering him a construction job (to which Jughead replied "nah it's okay") there was really no discussion at all about Jughead or his life.

He tried really hard not to be offended by this lack of consideration, as in reality he was extremely pleased for the absence of such prying questions. He really wasn't emotionally ready to talk with anyone about his time behind bars just yet. When that day finally came, it would be a conversation held with someone he loved and was close to. Not a blast from the past like Archie Andrews.

It took Jughead a double cheeseburger, two strawberry milkshakes and most of his serve of onion rings before he built up the courage to finally ask a question about Betty. Archie was in the middle of a tedious yet enthusiastic tale about the time in senior year when Reggie Mantle stole Josie McCoy’s underwear and strung it up the school flagpole when Jughead ever so casually popped an onion ring into his mouth and interjected offhandedly with “Oh yeah? What did Betty think about that?”

The scowl appeared on Archie’s face almost instantly, his eyebrows knitting together in both distaste and confusion. “Betty? She wasn’t there.”

Jughead knew the confused look on his face was almost perfectly mirroring Archie’s as he quickly responded. “Why not?”

This time Archie looked thoroughly annoyed as he swallowed heavily then dropped his burger back onto his dinner plate with a resounding thud. “This is a story about senior year, Jug. Betty left school at the start of junior year. Duh.”

Just like that. _Duh._ As if it was the most obvious thing in the world and it was Jughead’s own problem if he hadn’t bothered to keep up with the Riverdale High gossip while he was languishing in a prison cell.

“Right. Sure. I guess I must have forgotten.” Jughead shrugged, trying not to let the shock he felt settle on the features of his face.

Perfect Betty Cooper with the perfect GPA and a list of extra-curriculars longer than her own arm because they nicely padded out her college applications, had dropped out of school in her junior year.

It was official. When Jughead left prison, he’d entered the Twilight Zone.

“God Jug are we going to talk about Betty Cooper all night? Because I’m _so_ not down for that.” Archie grumbled, as if it hadn’t actually taken Jughead a good couple of hours to even mention her name for the first time. “As you can imagine she isn’t my favorite person and all this talk of her is putting me off my food.”

Jughead fought the urge to roll his eyes and instead smiled then shook his head. “Of course. I understand. I won’t mention her name again – Scouts honor.”

And though he’d never been anything close to a Scout, he dutifully kept to his word.

An hour later, Jughead parked his bike outside the Wyrm and lazily rubbed at his stinging eyes with the back of his hand. He stifled a yawn as he ambled up the front steps and into the bar. It had been a long day, in a long year. He was bone weary exhausted and in desperate need of copious amounts of shut eye.

He was surprised to see the venue almost completely devoid of human life and whipped his phone out of his pocket to glance at the time on the cracked glass of the screen. It was almost 10pm, and he knew for a fact the Wyrm didn’t call for last drinks until 11pm on Monday nights.

He diverted his path from the staircase that led to his apartment, to the bar area where he could see Toni standing on her own polishing glasses.

“Howdy cowboy.” she drawled when she spotted his approach, reaching up to her head to tip an invisible hat in his direction.

“Hey Tones.” Jughead smirked, dropping down onto the nearest stool opposite her.

“How was work today?” she asked, returning his smile.

Jughead raised a quizzical eyebrow in her direction. “How do you think it was?”

“Minty fresh and cavity free?”

Jughead chuckled dryly at her attempt at humor. “Ever considered giving up your job as a bar tender and becoming a stand-up comedian?”

“Literally every day of my life.” she laughed, placing the last of the glasses away and throwing her damp cleaning rag over her shoulder.  

“Where is everyone?” Jughead asked, glancing quickly around the room and catching sight of only two geriatric Serpents finishing up their beers near the pool tables.  

“Most of the Serpents are on a run down to Maryland to collect bike parts.” Toni explained nonchalantly. “The snake pit is looking pretty empty tonight, huh? We’re closing early so if you want a drink speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Jughead bristled slightly at the realization his father hadn’t filled him in on this little club excursion. He’d noticed more than once over the past five weeks that whilst his dad was keenly interested in rekindling a strong bond with him, he was definitely trying to keep him at arm’s length from Serpent business. Jughead could only assume it was an attempt to protect him from jeopardizing his parole conditions.

“Thanks but no thanks.” he replied, chasing away Toni’s offer with a wave of his hand. “Seriously Tones I’m just going to head upstairs. It's been a cluster fuck of a day and I'm just glad it's over.”

She bit her lip to keep from laughing but her eyes sparkled with mirth. “Over? Honey Boo it's only 10pm. Still plenty of time for more shit to go down. Just ask Little Miss Trouble over there.”

With a quick flick of her chin, Toni indicated toward a table tucked into the most dimly-lit corner of the bar and partially hidden behind a wooden pillar. Four more patrons were seated there, leaning so closely into each other that the sound of their voices wasn’t carrying across the deserted room. Jughead would most certainly have missed their presence if Toni hadn’t explicitly pointed them out to him.

FP. Sweet Pea. Fangs.

And Betty.

Jughead’s heart leapt into his throat at the sight of her. She was dressed in her biker girl finest – a skimpy black corset top, silver hoop earrings and a thick layer of kohl around her eyes, with her long hair wild and loose down her back.

He could only see the parts of her that weren’t hidden by the heavy wooden table top, but she certainly didn’t look hurt or injured. At least not physically.

Sweet Pea whispered something in her ear and she broke into raucous laughter then playfully batted him away. Judging by the happy smiles on all their faces – FP’s included – it seemed Betty wasn’t injured emotionally either.  

Satisfied that she was safe for the time being, and her lover boy clearly wasn’t holding her hostage somewhere, Jughead suddenly felt annoyed and like he needed to escape a potentially uncomfortable situation.

“Ugh no.” he grumbled, rising to his feet. “I need to leave. I'm not down for any more Betty Cooper boyfriend drama.”

“What? Boyfriend drama?” Toni frowned. “Have the toothpaste fumes gone to your head?”

“Most likely.” Jughead shot back sarcastically.

He felt the sudden urge to tell Toni he changed his mind and then ask for a stiff drink. But he’d just managed to shake his nicotine vice and with a father who’d previously fallen down the substance abuse rabbit hole he really didn’t need to tempt himself into replacing one bad habit with another. A few beers here or there was fine, but he knew he couldn’t ever use alcohol as a crutch – no matter how bad things got.

Suddenly something strange dawned on him.  

“Why didn't the Powerpuff Girls go on the trip to Maryland?” he asked.

“Well Bubbles is still massively grounded after that little stunt she pulled last week.” Toni said, leaning forward to speak in a hissed whisper. “Blossom and Buttercup naturally stayed behind to keep their ever-watchful eyes over her.”

Finally seeing his chance to get some answers, Jughead similarly leaned forward and matched Toni’s hushed voice. “About last week - with Betty…what was that? Why was everyone freaking out on her?”

Toni sighed and ran a hand across her face, rubbing so furiously at her cheeks they flushed pink to match her hair. “I’m sorry Jug I can’t tell you.”

Jughead was completely taken aback and frankly a little wounded by her unexpected response. “What do you mean? I thought we were, like, best friends. Are you keeping secrets from me?”

Toni sighed again and loudly groaned. “I want to tell you, Jug. I really do. But I made a promise to keep it on the down low.”

“G’night Toni!” One of the older Serpents suddenly called out, loudly interrupting their conversation as the two men ambled towards the exit.

“Have a good night guys!” Toni called back pleasantly, though her eyes were serious and never left Jughead’s face.

“A promise to who?” he seethed, raising his voice momentarily then quickly glancing across to check that he hadn’t pulled the attention of the quartet at the far table (thankfully they were still chatting and blissfully unaware of his presence in the Wyrm). “My dad? Is he forcing you to keep information from me?”

“No!” Toni answered quickly. “FP would never ask me to keep things from you. It’s Que- I mean, Betty. Okay? She specifically asked me not to tell you anything that’s been going on with her.”

“Betty?” Jughead asked incredulously.

“I want you to know I’m loyal to you, Jug. Truly I am.” Toni continued, clearly trying to find the words to redeem herself in his eyes. “But it’s taken Betty and I literally years to get to a point where we trust one another. She’s asked me to do this for her and I can’t betray her confidence now.”

Jughead sighed heavily and shook his head. He really didn’t have the energy to fight Toni on this matter until he slept for at least a couple of hours. “You know what? I’m just too tired to deal with this right now. I’m going to go on up to bed.”

Jughead stepped away from the bar, pushed through the swinging door to the back of the establishment and was half way up the staircase before Toni’s voice called after him.

“Jones I’m so sorry. Please don’t be angry at me.”

Jughead sighed again but paused long enough to call over his shoulder. “I’m not angry at you, Tones. I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

He opened the door to the apartment, kicking his boots off as soon as he carried himself inside and shucking out of his leather jacket before tossing it across the back of the couch. His beanie was scraped off the crown of his head as he padded down the hallway, and his tshirt was yanked up over his torso and discarded on his bedroom floor.

He decided there was probably some lame snake joke his dad would make about Serpents shedding their skin but chose to ignore the possibilities as he flopped down onto the soft mattress of his bed, still dressed in a well-worn white wife beater and jeans.

"Mmm. Sleep." he muttered, allowing his eyes to flutter closed.

Seconds later his foggy brain registered that the soft, rhythmic thumping reverberating up through the floorboards had ceased, signalling that Toni had shut off the music downstairs and was preparing to close the bar for the night.

For a moment the silence unnerved him. After years of sleeping in a noisy prison - where someone was almost always yelling or crying or fighting about something, he still found the quiet of the night slightly off-putting.

He was almost completely asleep when the shouting began. For a time he believed his sleep-deprived mind had actually transported him back to his jail cell and he was merely hearing the shouts of another prisoner.

But it was FP's heated voice that finally caught Jughead's attention. He supposed there was something primal in children that trained them from birth to recognize their parents voices because the sound of it jolted him fully awake. He catapulted himself to a sitting position and strained his ears to listen.

Men were yelling at each other. He couldn't quite make out actual words, but there was certainly fiery aggression in their tones. Then came a distinctly female voice, coated in distress.

_Betty._

Jughead was almost completely up and off the bed to rush down the staircase and rescue her, when the logical part of his brain kicked in and he abruptly halted his movement. The last time he'd tried to intervene in an argument between Betty and her male Serpent devotees he'd ended up with heart hurt and insomnia. Whatever had his dad so pissed off was no doubt justified and the trouble that seemed to follow the youngest of the Cooper siblings was no longer his problem.

Jughead flopped back down onto the bed, yanked the blanket all the way up to his chin and shoved a pillow over his face to block, or at the very least muffle, the shouting match in the bar.

He had drifted half into a dream again when the gun shot went off.

This time he flew out of bed as if he personally had been shot. Before any logical thought could enter his mind, his bare feet were propelling him down the hallway and he was opening the front door to the apartment.

There were only three people in the entire world that Jughead truly loved. One of them lived in Toledo and hadn't been allowed to talk to him since his incarceration. The other two were downstairs in the Wyrm - possibly in mortal danger. He just needed to get to them. He just needed to make sure they were okay.

He was halfway down the stairs when it occured to him that his father had strict rules about the Serpents not packing heat when they were on home turf. Besides that, it just wasn't a rational possiblity that any of the five souls within the Wyrm would try to physically hurt each other. He knew them all and knew they weren't capable of it.

"Oh shit oh shit oh shit." he breathed.

As he reached the bottom step he heard more shouting. Jughead didn't recognize the deep male voice - certainly it wasn't FP, Sweet Pea or Fangs -  but there was an inherent evilness dripping from each word spoken.

“I said don't fucking move. The next shot I fire won't be a warning shot."

A long pause.

"Just hand her over, Jones and we'll be on our merry way. Nobody needs to get hurt tonight."

The next voice that spoke was definitely FP's. "You don't touch one hair on her head. You hear me, Malachai?"

Jughead's blood instantly ran cold as he realized the leader of the Ghoulies was in Serpent territory.

"Come on now, Jones. Be reasonable. I hear your boy is back from prison. You've got your real kid back now. What the fuck do you care for this little pretender anymore?"

Oh no - Betty. Jughead was definitely sure that they were discussing her. Jesus Christ what had she managed to get herself into to make the Ghoulies come after her? The girl was like a walking bad news bulletin.

"They're both my kids, Malachai." FP answered resolutely. "You stay away from both of them."

Jughead decided at that point that he needed to get a visual on exactly what was going on inside the bar. Dropping to a low crouch, he began silently creeping along the floor heading towards the swinging door that linked to the front of the Wyrm. He then carefully raised himself up just so he was high enough to peek through the round glass window set into the wood.

He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting to find, but it certainly wasn't the sight before him. At least twelve Ghoulies - easily recognizable in their studded jackets - were packed into the main area of the bar. Some were holding guns, others were clutching knives. They'd clearly come looking for a fight.

Sweet Pea and Fangs had been effectively disabled with their hands zip tied behind their backs and separated from the other Serpents by a small group of Ghoulies who had guns trained directly on their faces. They were standing up against the pool tables and even from that distance Jughead could see the veins popping in Sweet Pea's neck as he fought to regain control of his temper and frustration.

FP and Betty were still standing over by their corner table, though FP had cleverly tucked her body in behind his. Betty's hand was clutching FP's arm, and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she stared intently at the floor. Malachai was hovering next to them, a pistol in one hand hanging loosely by his side.

He still looked exactly the same as the last time Jughead had seen him. The leader of the Ghoulies was a baby-faced bad boy with shaggy black hair that fell in ringlets across his forehead and a penchant for ostentatious silver jewelry.

"Stay away from both of them?" Malachai scoffed. "Or what, Serpent King? You don't get to make the demands right now. Pretty sure last time I checked, I was the one with the gun."

Jughead strained his neck trying to count exactly how many Ghoulies were in the room and finally decided he needed to get a better view. He hadn't been back in the gang very long, but even he knew it was imperative he make a proper assessment of the situation before deciding on a course of action. It wasn't like he could phone any of the other Serpents to help, and he suspected Malachai had deliberately waited until they were in Maryland before he made his move.

He ducked down from his vantage point at the window and tiptoed stealthily past the office then through the kitchen area before he dropped all the way onto his hands and knees and started crawling towards the open door that led behind the bar. That's when he saw a hint of movement in the corner of his eye and caught sight of Toni.

In all of the commotion he'd actually forgotten she was working that night. She was huddled behind the wooden paneling of the bar, trying to keep herself hidden, with a kitchen knife clutched firmly in her hands. Her wide, panicked eyes met his and she opened her mouth to silently scream his name.

Jughead raised a hand and indicated for her to stay down and keep quiet, before motioning that she should crawl towards him through the kitchen door. He knew if he could get her upstairs to the apartment she would be a lot safer. But Toni shook her head wildly and then held the knife a little higher, as if indicating that she wanted to stay and fight.

Serpent laws about never showing cowardice and never leaving a member for dead filtered through his conscious mind, even as he struggled to withhold a snarky eye roll. Surely she had to know a petite five foot nothing girl with a knife would have very little impact on a six foot gang banger brandishing a semi-automatic.

Jughead had just enough time to put a finger to his lips and signal to Toni that she should remain silent, before another round of yelling broke out between Malachai and the Serpents on the other side of the bar.

“Malachai you have no right to come barging into our clubhouse without prior consultation.” came FP’s booming voice. “You’re completely breaking every rule in our treaty.”

Jughead wasn’t aware there was any type of accord in place between the rival gangs, but it seemed exactly like an initiative his dad would attempt to put in place. He was all about keeping the peace.  

“You want to talk about the treaty?” Malachai shot back. “If you’d kept your little bitch on a leash I wouldn’t need to be here at all.”

“This is bullshit. Midvale isn’t Ghoulie territory!” Fangs shouted across the room.

“Well it sure as fuck isn’t Serpent territory.” Malachai replied over his shoulder, a little too calmly. “That’s it. I’ve grown bored of this conversation. Let’s go Blondie - you have a date with some cement shoes and the drop point on Sweetwater Bridge.”

From his concealed position near the kitchen door, Jughead could only see the tops of heads. But he clearly witnessed Malachai reach out and attempt to grab Betty. In a moment of panicked madness, Betty appeared to forcefully push FP in Malachai’s direction and the two men smashed roughly into one another.

It all happened very quickly after that.

FP seized the opportunity to knock the gun out of Malachai’s hand as the two men went crashing to the floor together. Fangs and Sweet Pea, still both with their hands bound behind their backs, used the pool table as a springboard to propel back and kick their captors as hard as they could. Meanwhile, Betty took off in a sprint towards the back of the Wyrm.

She was only a few steps away from the bar when a Ghoulie caught up with her and smacked her hard in the stomach with the butt of his gun. She cried out and immediately hit the floor like a sack of potatoes.

From the moment Jughead heard the pain in her voice, before her body even connected with the linoleum, something inside him seemingly snapped. It was almost as if he lost consciousness and went into a kind of dark auto-pilot.

He jumped up, physically launched himself past Toni and flew over the bar like it was only two feet tall. He then used himself as a corporeal barrier between Betty, who was still sprawled on the floor, and the approaching Ghoulies.

Jughead caught the Ghoulie closest to him with a sweeping haymaker punch then used the momentum to backhand another with a closed first. They both went down easily and didn’t even attempt to get back up, though one of them was moaning and clutching at his bloody nose.

Suddenly a gun was aimed in Jughead’s face, which he quickly knocked away with a roundhouse kick before following through with the other leg and launching a knee strike into his opponent’s groin. It was a cheap shot, but he knew it would quickly immobilize him.

Jughead didn’t even think before attacking the fourth Ghoulie that approached. The outstretched fingers on his open hand smashed into the gang banger’s throat and while he was still gasping for air Jughead grabbed him and dragged his arm behind his back so roughly he heard the Ghoulie’s shoulder pop as it dislocated.

“Enough! Enough!” FP bellowed.

It took Jughead a moment to gain control of his senses and he huffed for breath as he looked down and fully took in the sight of the three Ghoulies lying at his feet, and then noticed Malachai writhing in pain – securely in his own grip.

Glancing around the room Jughead could see Sweet Pea and Fangs were loose from their binds -thanks to Toni, who had similarly jumped the bar with her kitchen knife. The trio had managed to take out four Ghoulies between them. FP had picked up a gun and was aiming it directly at the others.  

Betty was still on the floor but was sitting up, having already backed herself as close to the side of the bar as possible. She was breathing heavily and staring in shock at the Ghoulies lying nearby.

Jughead gasped and let go of Malachai, who went careening across the room and landed with a smack on the floor at FP’s feet.

“Fuck you!” he shouted in pain, clutching at his shoulder.

“No, fuck you.” Jughead shouted back. “My dad told you to stay away from Betty and you didn’t listen. But hear me now – if you come near her again I won’t be so gentle on you next time.”

“Take your men and get out of here.” FP added, motioning towards the door. “And don’t you ever think about ambushing us again in our own clubhouse.”

Malachai nodded defeatedly to his boys, and they all slowly and painfully picked themselves up off the floor and ambled to the exit.

“Don’t think this matter is finished.” Malachai snarled at FP.

As he reached the door, he shook his head and muttered mostly to himself. “Remind me to make a mental note that all the Jones men are fucking obsessed with the little blonde.”

Then suddenly he was gone and the Wyrm was plunged into silence.

The hush was so permeating that everyone turned abruptly to stare at Sweet Pea when he tried to subtly clear his throat.

“Well…” Toni said awkwardly. “It’s safe to say that Jug improved his fighting skills while he was in jail.”

Jughead felt all eyes on him and he squirmed under the spotlight of their regard. He turned his own eyes down to the girl sitting near his feet, doing a quick visual check to search for any obvious injuries. She was gawking back at him, her eyes as big as saucers with a completely unreadable expression on her face.  

Slowly and deliberately, Jughead opened one of his clenched fists and extended his hand to her. She remained still as a statue, her eyes darting rapidly between his outstretched fingers and his face like she’d never seen a human arm before.  

“Betts, come on.” he mumbled clumsily.

Still she just sat there, seemingly frozen in space and time.

The air eventually became so thick with awkwardness that Jughead could barely breathe. He brusquely leaned further down, gripped her left bicep securely with both his hands and yanked Betty to her feet. The second he was satisfied she had found her footing and wasn’t likely to stumble back down, he retracted his touch and turned away from her.

The others were still all wordlessly staring at him. He met each of them with strong, penetrating eye contact and then decidedly turned and retreated from the room.  

By the time he reached the apartment his cheeks were flush with intense embarrassment and dread. A myriad of conflicting emotions were fighting for dominance inside him – the feelings so powerful he was sure they’d forced themselves all the way into his blood stream.

On the one hand, seeing the people he loved under real threat of harm had been purely terrifying. But the way he’d reacted with the blind violence and lack of self-control was somehow just as horrific.

Sure, he’d advanced his combat skills in prison. It’s not like he had much better to do and there’d been several cell mates who’d been all too willing to take him through the ropes. But he hadn’t put his abilities to the test in such a way and certainly never found himself unable to regulate his temper.

Most significantly, Jughead was mortified that he had played his hand so obviously in clear view of not only Betty but also the other Serpents in the room. After five weeks of feigned indifference, surely it was now abundantly obvious that he still had feelings for Betty in some capacity. He had reacted in such a territorial and possessive manner – literally putting himself between her and danger.  

“Shit.” he hissed, his face falling into his hands.

Seconds later the front door flew open then slammed shut as FP rushed into the apartment. Jughead looked up in surprise. He’d become accustomed to sitting alone in his bedroom while his father dealt with Serpent business and he truly hadn’t expected anyone to follow him.

“Boy are you trying to give me a heart attack?” he asked incredulously.

“Dad I’m –”  Jughead started, but his father tersely cut him off.

“What you just did down there was the stupidest, brashest, most outrageous thing I’ve ever seen you do in your whole life. Even worse than the time you confessed to a crime you didn’t commit.”

“Dad – ”

“And I’m so proud of you Jughead.”   

Jughead blinked. “Wait. What?”

Suddenly FP was right in front of him, enveloping him in a tight bear hug. Wrapped in his father’s warm embrace, Jughead felt the weight of the world metaphorically lifting off his shoulders. He felt safe and loved, and like just maybe everything was going to be okay.

“I’m so proud of the man you’ve become, Jughead.” FP said, his voice breaking with emotion. “You’re strong and you’re good and you’re loved as much as you love. Don’t ever forget that, okay? Not many people get to experience something this pure. Are you hearing me, boy?”

Jughead wanted to tell his father that to be completely honest he had zero clue what he was talking about. But there was absolutely no way he was going to compromise such a beautiful moment.

“Thanks Dad.” he mumbled, leaning further still into the hug and catching a whiff of FP’s aftershave.

As soon as it began, the embrace ended. FP stepped away, teary eyed but smiling.

“Listen, son.” he said gently. “I think it’s time that you and I had a long talk, okay? Man to man.”

“I’d like that.” Jughead smiled.

“First I just need to go back downstairs for a while and deal with the others.” FP said. “There’s some things that I really need to discuss with them.”

“Yeah Dad, of course.” Jughead nodded his complete understanding.

FP was almost out the front door when Jughead called him back.

“Dad is…is Betty okay? I don’t just mean today. I mean, uh, in general. Is she okay?”

FP looked genuinely conflicted before he sighed and then finally shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. I hope she will be. Soon.”  

Jughead simply nodded, somehow lost for words.  

As soon as his father was gone, Jughead flopped down onto the couch, pulled his bare feet up onto the cool white leather and let his head tip back.

Within seconds, he was soundly asleep.


	8. Secrets and lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Polly sighed audibly and took a slurp of the half empty milkshake on the table in front of her. “Jughead I know that you aren’t on the best terms with Betty right now and that the Serpents leadership group seem hell bent on keeping you in the dark on a lot of the stuff that’s happened over the past four years. But if you ask me I think it’s all nonsense and you have a right to know.”
> 
> “Know what?” Jughead asked, leaning forward a little in anticipation.
> 
> Perhaps that deep and meaningful conversation with his father that he'd been impatiently waiting for wouldn’t be necessary after all. 
> 
> Because if there was one thing that Jughead knew, it was that a Cooper girl with a bee in her bonnet wasn’t going to back down or toe the party line for anything or anyone. And it really seemed like Polly was about to unleash every secret currently lurking inside her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say except I'm really sorry I disappeared for so long? I'm sure you guys don't want to hear about my personal life sob story haha but let's just say I have a good excuse for my absence. But I'm back now and I've tried to make up for my prolonged absence with a double sized chapter 8! It's very heavy on the dialogue which I struggled with but hopefully it's not too clunky. 
> 
> You can consider this kind of like a mid-season finale for this fic. Kind of like the end of Riverdale season 2A when the janitor was outed as the Black Hood and the storyline all seemed to wrap up neatly (except of course it wasn't and the plot only thickened in 2B!). So don't get too comfortable with how I've wrapped up this chapter and prepare for more drama in forthcoming updates (which I promise will be more timely!)

The harsh morning sunlight streaming through the living room window jolted Jughead roughly from his slumber. He groaned and ran a hand over his sleep creased face before slowly dragging himself to a sitting position.

As he did so, he noticed that the black blanket normally atop his bed was draped across his body and a pillow had been shoved underneath his hatless head. For a few moments he was confused about why he was asleep on the couch, but then the memories of the previous evening came flooding back to him.

Malachai and the Ghoulies had mounted a violent ambush in the Wyrm. The lives of people he deeply cared about had been threatened. His dad had unexpectedly broken down and told him that he was proud of him. All in all, a rollercoaster of an evening that rated a solid 8 on the Richter Scale of Riverdale Weirdness.  

Pushing back the blanket, Jughead staggered to his feet and stretched his aching muscles then padded into the kitchen in search of sustenance (in a world where sustenance was just another fancy word for coffee).

It only took him a heartbeat to notice there was a note stuck to the refrigerator door, which he quickly snatched from under an oddly misplaced ‘Someone who loves me visited the Grand Canyon’ fridge magnet.

_Jug,_

_Sorry – I know I promised that we’d talk. When I came back upstairs last night you were sleeping like a baby and I didn’t want to wake you._

_I’ve got a problem with one of my liquor suppliers, so I’m headed into the city this morning. I’ll be home late tonight. We’ll talk then okay?_

_I love you son._

_Dad._

Jughead sighed, folded the note and placed it back beneath the magnet. He couldn’t fault FP for needing to take care of the bar – after all, being a small business owner was more than Jughead could ever have hoped his father would accomplish in life.

But he really had been counting on a long, deep and meaningful conversation with his dad to help him better understand exactly what was going on around him. After the trauma of the previous evening, he was pretty sure a thorough explanation was finally more than warranted.

Deciding he was still way too tired and emotional to spend an entire day helping other people avoid cavities and gingivitis, Jughead fired off a quick text to his production supervisor and claimed a bad bout of stomach flu was keeping him home for the day.  He felt slightly devious – like a kid playing hooky at school – but he knew his efficiency and enthusiasm for his job would be at an all-time low until he was given the answers he was craving.

Moments later Jughead received a return text from his supervisor confirming his absence had been noted, with a stern warning not to be sick again tomorrow. Jughead rolled his eyes in cynical annoyance then tucked his phone back into the pocket of his jeans and returned to more pressing matters – finding food and coffee.

FP had thankfully ensured the coffee pot on the kitchen counter was full and hot before leaving for the city, so Jughead made quick work of pouring himself a cup and gulping down the scolding liquid in record time.

With the caffeine gleefully coursing through his system, the next item on his agenda was to fill his belly with food. Opening the mostly bare cupboards, Jughead spotted a box of Cap’n Crunch and grabbed it down off the shelf.

“Not exactly the breakfast of champions, but at least it’s better than Cheerios.” he sniggered to himself as he went off in search of a bowl and some milk to complete the meal.

Opening the fridge door, Jughead was disappointed but unsurprised to find the carton of milk completely empty. Two somewhat eligible bachelors juggling busy lives, jobs and a motorcycle gang did not make for a well-stocked pantry.

But whilst there were many pitfalls to living above a bar, having access to an industrial kitchen right downstairs was definitely not one of them.

Not wanting to be caught off-guard again (by Ghoulies, or otherwise) whilst barefoot and shirtless, Jughead quickly dressed, planted his beanie on his head and pulled his feet into his boots before racing down to the Wyrm with his bowl of dry cereal clutched tightly in his hand.

Whilst there were mercifully no Ghoulies in sight, Jughead was perturbed to find the kitchen already occupied by another soul.

He heard her before he saw her – even her unintelligible angry grumblings were distinctly Betty. Then he saw her. She was on all fours, shuffling around on the floor and searching underneath the island benches.

She was back in her old wardrobe staples of blue jeans and a knitted sweater, with her long hair pulled into a high pony tail and fastened with a thick black ribbon. She looked very much like a slightly edgier version of the original Betty and it made Jughead’s stomach flip flop with boyish nerves.

He watched in confused amusement as she shuffled over to the large oven and yanked the door open before disappearing inside all the way up to her waist. This was followed by more banging, and unladylike clamoring.

“Fuck you Fangs.” he heard her mutter heatedly. “Fuck you Fangs Fogarty.”

Finally, his curiosity got the better of him and he decided to make his presence known.

“Good morning Sylvia Plath.” he cheerily called down to her.

Jughead heard a high pitched gasp from inside the oven, and then seconds later Betty’s half bashful, half petulant face re-appeared as she hastily rose to her feet to stand opposite him.

“Jughead! I wasn’t…I mean…I’m not trying to…Plath myself.” she spluttered uncomfortably.

Jughead smirked at her obvious awkwardness. “Even if you were, I’m actually pretty sure that’s an electric oven so you’d have just kept your head in there until you eventually died from old age.”

Betty swallowed but said nothing, her eyes trained carefully on his face and her expression unreadable.

Eventually, Jughead moved to approach her and he watched her visibly tense as he neared. Her nervousness and timidity were practically palpable. He knew her unusual response was no doubt a hangover from the events of the previous evening, but her reaction certainly wasn’t what he’d initially anticipated it would be.

When he’d returned to his apartment the previous evening he’d been tearing himself apart at the idea that Betty would gloat or belittle him because he’d made it obvious that he still cared for her. But now, standing alone together in the kitchen of the Whyte Wyrm, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Betty had interpreted his heroic act as something else entirely.  She had perceived it to be a power move – in her eyes he hadn’t shown her his vulnerable side, he’d merely demonstrated his strength and ability.

The thought then occured to him that Betty Cooper didn’t think he was weak at all. In fact, it was quite the opposite. She was maybe even a little scared of him. For the first time since his return from prison, Jughed felt somehow like he had the upper hand in their unfortunately toxic relationship and he was low-key basking in it.

Their shoulders brushed ever so lightly against one another as he slipped past her in the narrow space between the kitchen counters. He made his way to the fridge where he nonchalantly retrieved the milk and poured it over his Cap’n Crunch.

She watched him closely through narrowed eyes as he grabbed a spoon from the drawer, dipped it into his bowl and brought the cereal to his lips with a contented sigh.

“What are you doing here?” she finally snapped.

Jughead paused at length to leisurely swallow the cereal in his mouth, then casually glanced over at her. “Uh…It’s 7am and I live here. So I’m pretty sure I’m the one who should be asking you what you’re doing.”

Jughead bit back a grin at the fire that immediately ignited in her eyes. He knew he’d successfully pushed one of her buttons and he was enjoying watching her squirm. After a month and a half of Betty ruling the proverbial roost he was finally getting his turn to control a conversation.

“My mom owns this establishment, just the same as your dad.” she said, her voice steadily climbing in both volume and tempo. “I have every right to be here.”

“Betty I didn’t say you don’t have a right to be here.” he said, speaking calmly even as he raised an eyebrow incredulously. “I just asked you what you’re doing.”

She blinked a few times, as if processing his words, and then had the good grace to look a little sheepish. “Oh…” she finally said. “I’m looking for my bike keys.”

This time his eyebrows raised in genuine confusion, instead of mock superiority.

“…inside the oven?”

Again, she looked embarrassed. “After everything that went down last night I guess I had a bit too much to drink. Fangs hid my keys for my own safety.” Suddenly she scowled and looked away before mumbling. “The stupid fuck.” 

Ignoring her little outburst, Jughead nodded in mild interest and then shovelled another mouthful of food past his lips. “Well that sucks for you.” he observed unconcernedly. “Looks like you’ll be walking home.”

Betty seemed sincerely panicked by the notion. “You don’t understand.” she hissed. “I have to be all the way across Rockland County in an hour and if I don’t find my keys I’m screwed. You understand? Screwed!”

Jughead narrowed his eyes at her and prudently studied her demeanor. It wasn’t hard to recognize she was a young woman full of nerves and anxiety. She dragged her bottom lip slowly and forcefully between her teeth and subtly moved her hands behind her back, but not before Jughead caught her balling them into fists.

The gesture alone triggered such deep-seated dread for Jughead. Even the potential that she was trying to hurt herself was almost too much to bear. It took everything he had inside him not to reach for her hands and forcefully pry her fists open.

“It’s important to you? That you be there?” he asked lowly.

“Yes it’s fucking important.” she snapped. “Okay? I'm so fucking cranky. Fangs is such a bastard sometimes.”

As she spoke she released her hands and wildly threw them up in the air in a dramatic wave of frustration. Jughead let out a sigh of relief as he caught sight of her palms and noted that they were thankfully unharmed.

He made a concerted effort to maintain his happy-go-lucky attitude and not let on that he was suddenly afraid for her welfare. He knew that such a revelation would tip the balance of power back in her direction and he would lose whatever semblance of control he had been gifted.

“I don't remember you ever having such a potty mouth.” he said, finishing the last of his Cap’n Crunch and depositing the empty bowl on the kitchen counter.  

“Yeah?” Betty immediately returned serve. “Well I don't remember you having crazy ninja kung-fu fighting skills so I guess we're even.”

Jughead smirked at her and shrugged. He couldn’t help but think that she was cute when she was angry, even though the idea would probably just irritate her further. Watching her fidgeting in front of him was more than a little satisfying for his ego.

But the notion that Betty was upset about something he had the ability to help her with didn’t sit well with him. He knew if he left her bitching about Fangs in the kitchen he’d regret it for the rest of his days.

“My bike is out front.” he said, suddenly making a snap decision. “Come on, get your bag. I’ll drive you.”

Betty’s eyes flashed with surprise and mild panic as soon as she realized what he was offering. “No you don’t have to do that.”

Jughead grimaced in exasperation at her Alice Cooper display of stubbornness. “Just grab your helmet and come on.”

But Betty scowled at him and gritted her teeth. She was clearly resistant to accepting any kind of favor that would make her feel like she owed him anything.  Especially given she already basically owed him her life – not just because of the gang war incident but also because he’d gone to jail for her. Those favors really were mounting up.

“Just because you saved me from those stupid Ghoulies doesn’t mean we’re friends now.” she snarked, digging in her heels.

 “Duly noted.” he said flatly. “Let’s go.”

Without another word he turned and left the kitchen.

Taking the stairs two at a time he raced back to the apartment to grab his Serpent jacket, helmet and the keys to his bike then consciously tried to even out his breathing before swaggering out to the parking lot as coolly and calmly as his racing heart would allow.

His stomach sank as he realized he was alone and she hadn’t taken him up on his offer. Though he suspected she was still somewhere nearby, and maybe even watching him.

Determined to play it off like the whole affair meant nothing to him, he casually leaned up against his bike and distractedly toyed with a lock of hair that had fallen from within his beanie to rest gingerly across his forehead.

A few minutes later the back door to the Wyrm creaked open and one sullen blonde Cooper girl appeared, with her helmet tucked under one arm and her backpack nestled in the other. She slinked across the asphalt like a lamb proceeding to the slaughter with her eyes downcast, but she was clearly headed in his direction.

Adrenalin zipped down Jughead’s spine and warmed him all the way to his fingers and toes as he bit back a grin at the sight of her. He swung his leg up over the bike, opened the choke lever and started the ignition just as Betty reached his side.

“Hop on.” he instructed, eyes dead ahead on the road in front of them.

He watched in his peripheral vision as she slung her backpack over her shoulders and put on her helmet, leaving the matte black visor raised so she could provide him with directions along the way.

Then before he knew it, she was sitting on the bike behind him and her arms were cautiously snaking around his waist to grip him tightly.

Jughead was thankful the motor was already running as he was sure the pounding in his heart had reached an extremely audible level. His entire body was on fire and the hairs stood to attention on the back of his neck as the scent of her floral perfume reached his nose and her hot breath tickled his skin. This was probably as close to heaven as he’d been in four years.

“Head towards Ramapo.” she said, her voice quiet yet determined as it appeared somewhere close to his ear.

With all the blood pumping frantically through Jughead’s body, he could only manage a curt nod as he increased the throttle on the bike and pulled out of the parking lot, headed for Interstate 287 that would lead him out of Riverdale and north towards Ramapo, which was a town located clear across the county.

It wasn’t until they’d been on the road for fifteen minutes that he finally came to terms with the utter gloriousness of having Betty Cooper physically draped across his back. It was at that moment that the morbid thought occured to him that he had no idea where he was actually transporting her.

For all he knew, he had volunteered himself to deliver Betty to her boyfriend’s house. The realization was enough to make his mouth dry and he suddenly questioned his own judgement. But it was most certainly too late to turn back (at least not without looking like a complete crazy person) so he had no choice but to keep playing it cool.

Every now and then Betty would shift her position on the bike behind him, lean forward and bring her lips so close to his ear that he could physically feel the softness of them, then instruct him to turn left or right. The nerves slowly built in Jughead as she nudged him to take a right turn off the road that would lead them into Ramapo and it was becoming clear that they were nearing her destination.

Jughead suddenly felt like he had tunnel vision as he stopped paying attention to anything except the solid white line on the road that stretched out in front of them. He didn’t want to know where they were going anymore. He didn’t want to see where Betty’s boyfriend lived. He didn’t want to meet him or even see him.

Eventually Betty’s tight hold on his waist diminished and one hand moved up to squeeze his bicep.

“Pull over up here.” she instructed, much more loudly than before.

As if on auto pilot, Jughead brought the bike to a stop and his foot found the kick stand. Betty swung her leg up over the bike to dismount and yanked her helmet off her head, somehow revealing a pony tail that remained perfectly in-tact.

“Hey, um. Thanks.” she mumbled nervously, fidgeting with the zipper of her backpack. “I really appreciate the ride Jug. Head.” she paused awkwardly and cleared her throat. “Jughead.”

Jughead looked up at her properly and frowned in confusion and surprise as he took in their surroundings for the first time. Young people were clutching books to their chests and wandering tree lined walkways that cut between grey brick buildings.

“Uh…” he started, his eyebrows furrowing as he glanced from Betty to a group of strapping lads tossing a football on the grass nearby and then slowly back to Betty.

“Look.” she said pointedly. “I don’t need a ride home okay? So don’t wait for me. Seriously thanks for the ride but go home. I’ll see you around.”

Then she turned sharply on her heel and disappeared inside a building.

It took Jughead about three and a half seconds to decide that he did not, in fact, wish to go home. Rather, he wanted to figure out exactly where he was and more importantly what Betty was doing there.

He pocketed his bike keys and looped the strap of his helmet over the handlebar before setting off down a path in the complete opposite direction of Betty (because he figured if she caught him snooping she’d probably skin him alive and serve him on a platter at the Wyrm).

It didn’t take Jughead long to work out he was on some kind of educational campus. It was definitely too big to be a school and most of the students looked older than eighteen. He passed by a gym and pool, bookstore, library and a student union office before stumbling upon an admissions building.

After half an hour of wandering aimlessly, the answer he was looking for came in the form of a large green banner strung up outside the main door.

“Rockland Community College. State University of New York.” Jughead read aloud, mostly under his breath. “Well what is Betty doing here?”

He decided that the situation at hand called for a little old-fashioned sleuthing and quickly narrowed his course of action down to two possible scenarios – the first involved him dressing as a janitor and breaking into the filing system in the admissions building, and the second entailed hiding in the bushes outside Betty’s building then waiting for her to emerge.

With the second option clearly a no-brainer (because those thick janitors uniforms could be quite itchy and didn’t do justice to his milky complexion), Jughead doubled back and was half way to his bike when he became suddenly distracted by the smell of roasting coffee. He followed his nose all the way to the campus cafe and sidled up to the back of the long line of patrons. Coffee first; sleuthing second.

He had just ordered a doppio espresso to-go and was waiting to collect his drink from the barista when he heard an oddly familiar voice calling out across the cafe.

“My my my! Look what the snakes dragged in!”

He turned his head sharply towards the seating area, cringing ever-so-slightly at the lame Serpents reference.

“Do my eyes deceive me or is this Jughead Jones in the flesh?”

A flash of blonde hair abruptly caught his attention and he found himself unexpectedly eye to eye with the older of the Cooper girls. She was scrambling to free herself from the confines of a booth and suddenly rushing towards him.

He realized a split second too late that Polly planned to hug him, and didn’t quite have time to brace against the impact of her body being thrown against his. His arms went around her waist as hers grabbed onto his neck and they shuffled backwards before bumping into a wall, earning scowls from others waiting for their coffee orders.

Before Jughead even had time to feel awkward about the physical contact with Betty’s sister, Polly was suddenly back on her feet again and standing safely outside his personal space bubble.

“My god Jughead!” she gushed. “It’s so good to see you! How are you?”

“I’m well.” Jughead responded, though mostly because it just seemed like the politest thing to say. “And yourself?”

“Oh I can’t complain.” Polly paused briefly to smile before launching into more enthusiastic dialogue. “I’m living in Greendale with my twins. You remember them, right? They’re so big now! So what are you doing here? Don’t tell me you’re matriculating?”

Polly looked older and wiser than the last time he’d seen her. Her hair was cut short into a stylish bob, but still fashioned with one of her trademark headbands. She wore mom jeans, white kicks and a deep purple peasant top.

Jughead vaguely remembered something about Polly running away to join a cult after Jason died, but the young woman standing before him in the cafe seemed happy and adjusted.

“No.” he replied, smiling back at her despite himself. “I actually dropped your sister off about an hour ago and was just checking the place out.”

“Ohhhh.” Polly’s eyes flashing bright green as her face lit up excitedly. “So you’re the one who saved her ass and got her to her exam on time. She called me right before she went in and asked if I could pick her up when she’s done. I’d just dropped the twins off at preschool so I figured I’d come here to have breakfast and wait for her.”

They were interrupted by an uninterested shout from the young barista, as she deposited a brown paper cup on the counter. “Order for Doghead!”

Jughead grimaced and quickly scurried over to collect his coffee; the embarrassment only made worse by the peals of laughter coming from Polly’s mouth. It was one of the first times he’d ordered coffee since his release from prison and he still wasn’t in the practice of giving a normal fake name.

“Come sit with me.” she insisted, tugging on the sleeve of his jacket.

Sensing Polly wasn’t going to take no for an answer and also glad to see a friendly face, Jughead allowed her to drag him back to her booth where he sank into the bench seat opposite her.

“So Betty is a student here?” he asked, taking a sip of his hot beverage.

“She didn’t tell you?” Polly asked in reply, rolling her eyes in annoyance. “Gosh she’s strange sometimes. Yes she’s a student here. Although I still don’t know why she’s wasting her time at community college when she had the GPA _and_ SAT score to easily get into Cornell. But as you know she’s a stubborn human being.”

Jughead frowned. “How did she have the grades for Cornell if she dropped out of school in junior year?”

“Did someone tell you Betty dropped out of school?” Polly seemed genuinely horrified by the notion. “Let me guess, it was a Northsider?”

Jughead simply nodded (deciding it was probably smart to keep Archie’s name out of the conversation) and Polly openly scoffed before continuing. “Betty left Riverdale High in junior year but she didn’t drop out. I mean have you even met our mother? Do you really think she’d let Betty leave school without graduating? No way! Betty finished up her final years at Southside High.”

Jughead was so shocked by Polly’s words he actually choked on his espresso and the scalding liquid burnt the roof of his mouth. “Did you say Southside High? But they shut it down not long before I went to…uh, you know. Before I went away.”

Polly abruptly laughed nervously, like someone who’d been told a joke but secretly didn’t understand the punch line. “Have you been living under a rock since you got home? You didn’t notice that Southside High is open and fully operational?”

Jughead shrugged bashfully. “I’ve mainly been keeping to myself I suppose. I haven’t been out and about much and nobody really tells me anything.”

He knew he probably appeared nonchalant, but truthfully the news that Southside High had reopened shook him to his core. It was the last thing he’d ever expected to happen. No, wait. Betty _attending_ Southside High was the last thing he’d ever expected to happen. He couldn’t believe he’d never noticed the school before now.

As a matter of fact, now that he thought about it there were really no signs of the SoDale project at all anywhere on the Southside. Before he’d gone to prison the threat of SoDale had been hanging over the whole south like a menacing storm cloud. But it was like the entire problem had disappeared in the blink of an eye. So much so that he’d forgotten it even existed in the first place.

Polly sighed audibly and took a slurp of the half empty milkshake on the table in front of her. “Jughead I know that you aren’t on the best terms with Betty right now and that the Serpents leadership group seem hell bent on keeping you in the dark on a lot of the stuff that’s happened over the past four years. But if you ask me I think it’s all nonsense and you have a right to know.”

“Know what?” Jughead asked, leaning forward a little in anticipation.

Perhaps that deep and meaningful conversation with his father that he'd been impatiently waiting for wouldn’t be necessary after all. Because if there was one thing that Jughead knew, it was that a Cooper girl with a bee in her bonnet wasn’t going to back down or toe the party line for anything or anyone. And it really seemed like Polly was about to unleash every secret currently lurking inside her mind.

“I guess to make sense, I have to take you right back to the beginning.” Polly said, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “When you first got arrested my sister…well, let’s just say she went off the rails a bit. She basically camped out in the waiting room of the police station – didn’t eat, didn’t sleep, didn’t go to school. I was living up at the farm at the time but as soon as I heard the news I raced back home.”

Jughead groaned and placed his head in his hands. None of the information was particularly shocking (he’d even anticipated that Betty would respond in such a way when he first banned her from seeing him) but it still hurt to hear that he’d affected her so badly.

“Once you were sentenced and packed off to Shankshaw we really thought we were going to lose her. It was like she lost the will to live or something.” Polly continued somberly. “But then one day she came downstairs at breakfast with a new lease on life. Mom and I thought maybe she’d turned a corner with her mental health, but the truth was she’d just found herself a new crusade.”

“A new crusade?” Jughead asked, not completely sure he wanted to hear Polly’s answer.

“Yep.” Polly nodded. “Turns out Betty read an article in the newspaper about how construction was commencing on the SoDale project, and she was suddenly determined to put a stop to the whole thing. She said she didn’t want you coming home to a Southside you didn’t recognize. It was your home and she wanted to preserve it for you.”

“But I mean – I was working tirelessly to try and stop the project before I left. The situation was hopeless!” Jughead spluttered. “Are you telling me she succeeded? How did Betty find a way to stop it?” 

“She enlisted the help of Veronica and together they started investigating the project from the inside out.” The blonde explained. “They started sticking their nose into places they definitely didn’t belong. Veronica even went through her dad’s office and they found some bread crumbs that led them to that fateful night when it all went wrong.”

“Wrong?” Jughead gasped, hanging off Polly’s every word.

“Betty broke into Fred Andrew’s office at the SoDale construction site and found a lock box hidden in a wall cavity near Hermione Lodge’s desk. Turns out the project was bigger than anyone had ever imagined – there were plans to flatten the entire Southside. There was so much illegal activity it wasn’t even funny. Bribes to the Mayor’s office, falsified documents, money laundering, treason, mafia activity, even the involvement of an international terrorist cartel.”

“Holy shit.” Jughead said, gripping the edge of the table in shock and anticipation. “What did Betty do?”

“Would you believe she didn’t even tell my mom or Sheriff Keller? She went straight to the FBI.” Polly whispered.

“What!” Jughead shrieked, then immediately clamped a hand over his mouth.

“The FBI came swooping in and arrested both Hiram and Hermione Lodge as well as Fred Andrews and even Mayor McCoy. Keller was stood down as Sheriff. It was this whole big thing.” Polly said, waving her hands wildly to punctuate the narrative she was spinning. “Mary Andrews worked tirelessly and eventually managed to clear Fred’s name – thank God! Because the poor guy truly had no idea what was going on in his own office. But in the end the Andrews had to sell their house just to keep Fred’s business afloat. It was such a mess.”

Suddenly the reason Betty was so hated by Archie made perfect sense. It seemed that Betty’s determination to save the Southside had irreparably damaged the families of all those around her.

“What happened to everybody else?” he asked. “Veronica’s parents?”

“Hiram and Hermione were both convicted of federal crimes and are serving lengthy sentences in a maximum-security prison.” Polly informed him. “Poor Veronica was basically left an orphan and she had to move back to New York under the guardianship of one of her uncles.”

“I can’t believe it.” Jughead gasped. “I had no idea.”

“So in the end Betty did succeed in stopping the SoDale project. But suddenly everyone at Riverdale High hated Betty.” Polly said. “Josie and Kevin blamed her for their parents’ shameful removal from public positions and especially Archie saw Betty as the reason his life was turned upside down.”

“So that’s why she moved to Southside?” Jughead asked.

“I wish.” Polly rolled her eyes. “If only it were that simple.”

“Oh God, this story gets worse doesn’t it?” Jughead muttered fearfully.

“Strap yourself in Serpent Prince.” Polly announced, demonstrating a hint of that Cooper flair. “Because you won’t believe what happened next.”

“Lay it on me.”

“A month or two later, when my mom was already knee deep in divorce proceedings, she got a phone call from FP.” Polly began again. “It had been brought to his attention through not-so-nice channels that Hiram Lodge was plotting from his jail cell to take revenge on the girl who’d foiled his plans. That crazy guy had taken a hit out on a seventeen-year-old girl!”

“A hit?!” Jughead shouted.

“Shoosh keep your voice down.” Polly scolded him. “At first the grown ups began making plans to send Betty away. But then I guess they realized that if she was on her own nobody would be able to protect her. So they decided to hide her in plain sight…”

“…as a Southside Serpent.” Jughead finished for her, the weight of the truth suddenly sinking into his chest and stomach.

“Right.” Polly affirmed. “Mom had already sold our house and taken a job at the Greendale paper so literally in the middle of the night Betty packed a bag and disappeared. When she surfaced a week later she’d been transformed into both a Serpent and a Southsider, forever flanked by her personal guard dogs Sweet Pea and Fangs.”

Jughead raised a hand to indicate that Polly should stop talking and leaned back in his seat to allow the truly shocking information he’d just learned to wash over him in waves.

Suddenly it all made so much sense.

The reason Alice Cooper seemed so supportive of Betty in the gang, the almost creepy way the boys stuck to Betty like glue, the fact people thought they had a right to control her every move, even the way FP seemed to have adopted Betty as his own surrogate daughter.

They were protecting her from a mobster.

“I…my God. I just…I’m not…” Jughead spluttered.

“It’s a lot to take in, right?” Polly mused, seemingly finished with her story as she began happily slurping her milkshake again. “I mean especially the fact she did it all for you. The whole reason Veronica’s dad wants Betty dead is because she was trying to save the Southside for you.”

“Fuck Polly, give a guy a chance to breathe. You really shoot to kill huh?” Jughead admonished lightly.

“Sorry.” Polly laughed. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. Just thought you should know that even though Betty may seem standoffish towards you now, the reality isn’t quite what you see on the surface with her. She’s got a lot going on behind the scenes.”

Jughead scrubbed at his face with the palm of his right hand, trying to make sense of it all. He felt like he’d just been hit with a metaphorical truth truck. Every single thing he’d suspected about Betty was completely wrong.

Well, maybe not every single thing. There was something else that he needed to know – something that would probably hurt him. But he knew he’d find no peace unless he knew she was okay.

“Hey Polly, um, can I ask you another question?” Jughead asked, gulping nervously.

“Sure!” Polly replied sweetly.

“What’s the deal with Betty’s boyfriend? Does he treat her badly or something?” he asked rather brashly.

Polly sat frozen in her seat, staring at Jughead like he’d just asked her if she thought it was a good idea to move to the African jungle and become a nudist. The longer his words hung in the air, seemingly lingering on the table between them, the more worried Jughead became.

Eventually Polly shook her head to clear her thoughts and opened her mouth to speak. “Betty definitely doesn’t have a boyfriend. What made you think that she does?”

Jughead fought the urge not to break out in spontaneous laughter. He really had been wrong about everything. Hot tingles spread through his torso and flowed out to his extremities like smooth orange lava, leaving crackling energy behind to ignite his skin.

_Betty didn’t have a boyfriend. Betty didn’t have a boyfriend. Betty didn’t have a boyfriend._

“I guess I just assumed.” he shrugged. “I overheard her a while back at the Wyrm talking about a boy that she loved and – ”

“The fuck is this?” came a thunderous voice from above him.

Polly and Jughead both physically jolted in their seats, and simultaneously raised their faces to the source of the disturbance.

One extremely irate looking Betty Cooper was hovering over their booth. Jughead realized guiltily that he and Polly had probably been so caught up in conversation that time had slipped away from them.  

Betty’s backpack was slung over her shoulders, her helmet tightly gripped with both hands. Jughead watched her knuckles quickly turn a mottled shade of white from anger and exertion.

Looking up at her, Jughead suddenly saw Betty Cooper in a whole new light. He wondered how much of her bitchy bad girl attitude was just for show and how much of her was just a scared young woman doing her best to avoid death at the metaphorical hands of a crazed mobster.

“Hey sis!” Polly chirped merrily, apparently completely unaware of the tension radiating off her two companions. “How was your exam?”

“Are you kidding me right now Pol?” Betty snapped. “What do you even think you’re doing?”

“I’m just having a drink with Jughead.” the older Cooper grinned. “It’s been so long since I saw him last. Doesn’t he just look so grown up now, Betty? Kind of like a young John Wayne.”

Jughead recognized immediately that Polly was trying to bait and provoke her sister, but he had no idea why. In fact all he knew was that he neither wanted to be involved in the matter, nor present when Betty inevitably blew her fuse.

“I think I’m just going to go.” he muttered, beginning to inconspicuously slide out of the booth to make his exit.

“Oh but Jug our mom always makes a big celebratory lunch when Betty finishes her final exam for the semester. You should come home to Greendale with us!” Polly suggested cheerily, clearly intent on continuing her goading.

“Jughead isn’t hungry.” Betty seethed through gritted teeth.

“Betty darling, I’ve known Jughead most of my life and I’ve never once known him to not be hungry.” Polly deftly replied.

Jughead finished his ascent from the table and slipped past Betty, careful not to physically touch her on the way. “It’s true. I’m not hungry. But thank you for the offer.” he mumbled.

“It was so lovely catching up with you Jughead Jones.” Polly gushed. “We should do it again sometime.”

“Uh, I guess.” he shrugged. “See you around Polly. Thanks for the chat.”

Before he had even reached the door, the Cooper sisters began to squabble loudly enough that he could clearly hear them.  

“Chat? What did he mean by chat? Damn it Polly what did you tell him?”

“Nothing, sis. You need to lighten up.”

Jughead kept his head down as he exited the cafe, determined to just get out of there as quickly as possible. He wasn’t sure why he felt so guilty about going behind Betty’s back and talking to Polly. It wasn’t as if Betty had been welcoming of him since he returned to Riverdale. Perhaps it was because the truth she had been hiding from him was so shocking. Or because he held himself partly responsible for what she’d been through.

Had she really saved the Southside for him?

“Lighten up? Don’t you tell me to lighten up. I’m telling Mom what you did…”

Finally Jughead was far enough away that Betty’s voice faded into the buzzing background noise of the campus, and eventually disappeared altogether.

Back on auto pilot, he hurried straight to his bike and started on his journey back to the Wyrm.

The entire ride home his mind was a maelstrom of emotions. He was hurt and confused, he felt betrayed that nobody had told him the truth until now, angry that Betty had put herself into a position where she was open to getting hurt, and even angrier that nobody had stopped her.

In the months since his return to Riverdale, he’d been so focused on injustice. Or at least the perceived injustice that he’d gone to jail for Betty to allow her to have a normal life, but she’d thrown it all away by joining a biker gang.

Not to mention his simmering resentment and fury aimed squarely at Fangs and Sweet Pea for the way they’d moved in on his territory while he was gone and the petty jealousy he felt when his father showered Betty with attention.

But all of it was wrong.

The gang hadn’t been Betty’s downfall; it had saved her from Hiram Lodge. FP, Sweet Pea and Fangs had stepped up and been there for her when everybody who should have protected her failed dismally in their duties.

Arriving at the Wyrm, Jughead was greeted by a wall of noise, the thick fog of cheap cigarettes and the bustle of the lunch crowd.

He spotted Toni behind the bar serving beers and singing along to the jukebox. She offered him a broad grin as she watched him approach.

“Hey there tiger.” she greeted warmly.

“Toni did you know that Hiram Lodge took a hit out on Betty?” Jughead asked, skipping the trivial niceties and getting straight to the point.

Almost immediately the color drained from Toni’s face and the smile faded on her lips. She snatched his hand and dragged him roughly into the kitchen where they could speak in relative privacy.

“How do you know that, Jug?” Toni demanded. “Who told you?”

“Polly Cooper.” he replied coolly.

“Shit.” Toni hissed, shaking her head sharply. “That meddlesome bitch. She needs to mind her own business.”

“So it’s true then?” Jughead persisted. “And you kept it from me?”

Toni’s crumpled face was all Jughead needed to see to know the answer to his questions.

“Jug I’m so sorry…”

“I need you to tell me the truth now, Toni.” he insisted forcefully. “I need you to tell me how this all happened.”  

“I was so mad at her Jug.” Toni said, her voice cracking. “When you went to jail I lost my best friend and I blamed her. I really believed she killed that shady drug dealer and let you take the fall.”

“Toni that’s not what happened.” Jughead interrupted forcefully, his need to defend Betty’s honor ever-present.

“I know that now.” she groaned. “But back then I didn’t. So when Southside High was saved from demolition I didn’t care why - I was just glad to be getting away from her. Then in the middle of the night the phone rings. It’s FP. He says that Betty is in trouble and needs our help.”

“So you sheltered her from Hiram by initiating her into the Serpents?”

“No.” Toni shook her head remorsefully. “I told FP I wasn’t interested in helping a nasty troll like Betty Cooper and I hung up the phone.”

“What?” Jughead gasped.

“Obviously Fangs and Sweet Pea were more willing to take their orders from our Serpent leader because next thing I know they’d been assigned as Betty’s personal body guards.” Toni explained.  “For a while they were all clearly miserable about it and I was proud of the fact I’d turned down the job. None of them got along with each other – the boys resented their task and Betty felt affronted that she no longer had any freedom.”

“And then?” Jughead prompted her.

“And then…I guess things changed.” Toni shrugged. “They got to know each other. It stopped being a chore to spend time together. They became close. Best friends. Family. And suddenly I was locked out of my own friendship circle.”

“They chose her over you?” he asked, finally feeling calm enough to step away from Toni and lean up against the kitchen counter.

“The boys hated that I’d openly shunned Betty.” Toni said. “By the time I realized I was probably wrong about her murdering that guy, the damage was already done. It wasn’t until last year that Betty and I finally started mending our bridges. She told me the whole truth about what happened that night, and how she’d tried to stop the SoDale project. I told her I was sorry for the way I’d treated her. For a while things were kind of okay.”

“And then?”

Toni smiled ruefully. “And then...you came home. I picked team Jones over team Cooper.”

Jughead moaned and dropped his head into his hands. “How is this whole thing such a mess? It’s like we’re living inside a real-life soap opera.”

“Don’t be silly.” Toni smirked. “If this was a soap opera your evil twin would kidnap you and take your place, FP would develop amnesia and Fangs would become trapped down a well.”

“Thanks for the reality check.” he laughed.

Toni suddenly became serious again and she reached over to take hold of Jughead’s hand.

“Hey, seriously Jug. I’m really sorry.” she said quietly. “I should have told you the truth from the very beginning. We thought we were protecting you by keeping all this from you, but you deserved to know the truth.”

“It’s okay Tones.” he said, giving her hand a small squeeze before letting it go. “But can you do me a favor and not mention to Betty that I know? She sure didn’t seem happy to find me talking to Polly.”

“Roger that.” Toni said. “I need to get back out and serve at the bar. Are you going to be okay by yourself for a while?”

“Yeah.” he replied. “I think I need some time to process anyway.”

Jughead made his way upstairs to the apartment and followed his usual ritual of toeing off his boots and shrugging out of his jacket before collapsing onto the couch. His emotional exhaustion was oddly overpowering and he wondered if his brain might explode. He couldn't believe so much had happened and it was only just midday. 

In a way, knowing the truth was so much harder. He knew now what Betty had gone through in his absence and it made his heart ache to think of her alone and scared. But on the other hand, it was so much easier to deal with her frosty attitude towards him because he understood the situation a little better.

Her feelings of love for him had endured long enough after his imprisonment for her to destroy the entire SoDale project, save his school and put away some mobsters. That had to count for something. That had to mean there was a chance that one day they may even find their way back to being friends.

At the very least, he knew he needed to join the efforts to protect her from the blood sucking vampire that was Hiram Lodge. Albeit, he would do so from afar. But he had a newfound respect for Sweet Pea and Fangs and determined to be less antagonistic towards them from now on.

Flipping on the tv, Jughead flicked aimlessly through the channels before settling on cartoons to sap away his anxiety and dull the racing thoughts inside his brain. 

It was hours later, when the sun had already sunk below the window frame and the street light outside was casting a warm yellow glow over the living room, that FP Jones came bounding in the front door clutching a bag that smelled like Pops burgers. 

"I'm so sorry son." he said immediately, depositing the food on the table and joining Jughead on the couch. "I know you really wanted to talk today but I had to sort out some issues with the bar." 

Jughead smiled and clapped his father on the back. "Don't stress, Dad. It's fine. I don't need to talk. I'm good." 

"Don't you want to ask me some questions about what happened downstairs last night with the Ghoulies?" FP asked, confusion evident on his face. 

"The only thing I want to ask is whether you got me a side order of fries with that burger." Jughead said, indicating towards the food. 

FP studied his son carefully for a moment, before breaking out into a wide grin. "Would I even be a real Jones if I didn't bring home fries?" 

The Jones men settled down with their meals and fell into a companionable silence. 

Jughead sighed peacefully as he chomped down on his burger. 

For the first time in a long time, he could relax and just trust that everything was going to be okay. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	9. Fireworks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I know, I know.” Fangs interrupted him quickly, raising both his hands with palms facing outward as if surrendering. “I get it. I’ve watched you long enough and now I have you figured out.”
> 
> “What do you mean?” Jughead asked, eyebrows knitting in concern and confusion.
> 
> “You have the same agenda as we do.” Fangs explained with a shrug. “You care about her. You want to protect her. After all this time you’ve still got her back. Maybe you still even love her.”
> 
> Jughead gasped again and ran a hand across his face to try and mask his own trepidation. His feet weren’t even touching the water, yet he felt like he was drowning in Fang’s easily spoken words. “Does…does she know?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry once again for a bit of a delay in posting. My baby had to be hospitalized and ended up having surgery in late July so I've been pretty busy taking care of her - thankfully she's totally fine now and fully mended! That means I'm back to writing again and fully committed to finishing this fic. This chapter shifts the story from early May (where we left off in the previous chapter) to mid July. Hope you enjoy :)

 

The tepid days of mid May soon blossomed into soupy heat as the municipality of Riverdale soldiered onward into June, bringing with it an unusually humid summer. 

The mugginess seemed to veritably slow the tempo in the town with pep, as local children flooded the streets with their bikes and their makeshift baseball games.

For the most part it was business as usual for the grown-ups, but the prolonged sunlight and pleasant warmth that lingered into the early evenings lent themselves to impromptu outdoor barbecues in the late afternoons on both weekdays and weekends.

Likewise, the baby Serpents seemed to both metaphorically and literally shed their skin. On the days when Jughead wasn't working he would often follow them down to the banks of Sweetwater and sit on the sand with his toes dipped into the cool water as he watched the others strip down to their swim suits and frolic in the river.

Sometimes, but not often, Betty would join them. She would stick close to her boys and giggle as Sweet Pea hauled her into the middle of the river on his back before depositing her unceremoniously into the water with a shriek and a mighty splash. She would line up to take her turn on the rope swing and partake in lively games of Marco Polo.

But Jughead could see the apprehension in her, whenever she was by the river’s edge. There was a simmering anxiety nestled quietly within her. A sense of consternation that he was sure was not apparent to majority of the people she spent her time with. He could see it in her eyes, and her body language, and in the way she held her hands close to the side of her body.

In the days and weeks that proceeded Jughead dropping Betty off at her college exam, Jughead had pondered how much things would change between them. He expected perhaps a shift in their dynamic. Not necessarily an immediate move towards friendship, but certainly something.

He also wondered if Polly would let the proverbial cat out of the bag and admit to Betty that she had divulged the truth to him about her sister’s involvement in destroying the SoDale project or the reason the Serpents had closed ranks around her to protect her from the diabolical Hiram Lodge.

But if Betty knew that he knew all her deep dark secrets, she certainly didn’t let it show. Because basically nothing seemed different about the way she treated him, apart from the fact that she perhaps scowled at him slightly less. The open hostility was gone, but there was no idle chatter, no smiling, and no olive branch in sight.  

Whilst their relationship hadn’t improved, certainly a lot had changed for Jughead on a personal level. For one thing, he spent considerably less of his free time shooting daggers at Sweet Pea and Fangs across the Wyrm. Instead, he chose to silently join their mission to protect the blonde that was quite clearly the center of all their universes.

He covertly watched her, even more so than before. He inconspicuously hung around in the shadows each night to make sure she made it safely to her bike and out of the Wyrm’s parking lot. He kept himself in a constant state of readiness (or as he liked to describe it: alert but not alarmed), should a situation arise that meant Sweet Pea and Fangs would require back-up to shield her from harms way.

In some aspects it was a pathetic way to live his life, and he was acutely aware of how lame he was. Nobody had asked him to dedicate his days to secretly guarding Betty Cooper – _least of all_ Betty Cooper herself.

But knowing what she had done for him changed everything. Knowing that she had a bounty on her head because at one time in her life she had loved him enough to risk everything for him…

Well, it just meant something.

He’d gone to jail for her and she’d taken on a gangster for him. Maybe they were as lame as each other? Sure, nowadays they generally avoided mutual eye contact. But it didn’t matter. Not to him.

So he sat nearby Sweetwater, grateful that the fanned branches of the maple tree above him offered ample respite from the sun’s scorching rays, and silently observed.

It was an unremarkable afternoon in late June when Fangs, skin slick with river water, flopped down onto the grass beside him. He followed Jughead's line of sight to where Betty was paddling in the river with some of the Serpent girls, the guarded uneasiness still seeping covertly from her personage.

"She doesn't like it here." Fangs said suddenly.

Jughead was momentarily so surprised that he wasn't entirely convinced he hadn’t imagined Fangs speaking to him.

After months of nothing but snarling and death stares on the parts of both Fangs and Sweet Pea alike, a pleasant conversation was not what he was expecting. But then the dark-haired boy spoke for a second time.

"The river reminds her of...you know." he said quietly. "The stuff that happened four years ago."

Jughead was so shocked by what was clearly the start of a normal adult dialogue that he momentarily forgot how to open his own mouth to reply. The thought crossed his mind that Fangs was somehow setting him up for a fall, but his face seemed to hold no ill will.

"You mean when the Sherriff’s office dragged the river and found the shady man’s car?" Jughead finally asked, his voice low and unsure.

"Yeah." Fangs affirmed. "She tries hard to pretend she's having fun here, so the others don't suspect. But the ghost of that car haunts her memories I think."

"Hers and mine both." Jughead muttered, and it caused them both to look up at each other and exchange an apprehensive smile.

After that, the boys fell into a tense silence. Jughead was grossly unprepared for a conversation with one of Betty's guard dogs. At least not a conversation that was completely without hint of malice or aggression.

He watched as Fangs craned his neck to first check that Betty wasn’t looking in their direction, and then check to make sure that Sweet Pea still wasn’t in attendance at the river, before turning back to Jughead with a serious expression cut into the chiselled features of his face.

“Look, you and I both know I’m not exactly as loud or as popular as Betty and Sweet Pea.” he said, his voice barely more audible than a whisper.

“Uh, if you’re looking for ways to increase your popularity I’d suggest you’re barking up the wrong maple tree because the locals aren’t exactly lined up around the block to hang out with me.” Jughead answered dryly.

“No you dummy.” Fangs said, rolling his eyes. “I just mean, people pay less attention to me and that in turn gives me greater scope to pay more attention to other people.”

Jughead blinked. “Huh?”

“I’ve been watching you, Jones.” Fangs said exasperatedly. “I’ve been quietly watching you for these last few months. And you know what I’ve noticed?”

“What’s that?” Jughead asked, swallowing heavily over the sudden lump that appeared in his throat.

“While I watch you…you watch her.” he answered casually, tipping his head in the direction of the river.

Jughead’s eyes flashed to the water as the panic started to rise within him. Was he experiencing that kind of rouse where someone was suddenly going to force a black bag over his head and kidnap him as punishment for being a creepy stalker?

But Betty was still with the girls, paddling out into the middle of the river and completely unaware of what was happening mere feet away.

“It’s okay.” Fangs continued placatingly. “You don’t need to worry. Sweet Pea seems to think you have it in for her, ya know? Like some kind of revenge for the fact you went to jail.”

Jughead gasped in horror and sat up a little straighter. “I would never – ”

“I know, I know.” Fangs interrupted him quickly, raising both his hands with palms facing outward as if surrendering. “I get it. I’ve watched you long enough and now I have you figured out.”

“What do you mean?” Jughead asked, eyebrows knitting in concern and confusion.

“You have the same agenda as we do.” Fangs explained with a shrug. “You care about her. You want to protect her. After all this time you’ve still got her back. Maybe you still even love her.”

Jughead gasped again and ran a hand across his face to try and mask his own trepidation. His feet weren’t even touching the water, yet he felt like he was drowning in Fang’s easily spoken words. “Does…does she know?”

“Nah.” Fangs shook his head. “Your secret is safe with me, Jones.”

“Then why come over here?” Jughead asked. “Why tell me all this?”

Fangs made a move to stand, so that he was now towering over a still seated Jughead. His lean body cast a shadow across Jughead’s face and forced him to squint as he looked up into the sun.

“I just want you to know that you and I aren’t enemies, okay?” Fangs replied. “It’s my job to keep Queenie safe and if you’re making that your job too then we’re allies. I’m not saying we’re going to have slumber parties and braid each other’s hair but if you need me you can reach out to me. Cool?”

“Yeah. Cool.” Jughead nodded, still slightly numb from the shock of what had just transpired.

Before he could even open his mouth to say anything more, Fangs turned and ran back down towards the river’s edge. Without hesitation he waded into the water all the way up to his waist and wrapped his arms around Betty from behind, never offering Jughead so much as a backwards glance.

June trickled agonizingly slowly into July, the air thick and sticky like maple syrup off a spoon. It brought with it Independence Day and the Serpent's annual community party. 

The fourth of July was one of those special days when the Serpents tried to give back to the Southside and create some fun for families that were often left hung out to dry by the Northside establishment. 

Jughead remembered the events rather fondly from his own childhood, but hadn't actually attended one since his mom and JB made tracks for Ohio.

Mental images of meat grilling on hot plates, children laughing, men in leather jackets clutching beers and an evening display of cheap and cheerful fireworks flooded his memory. He was keen to attend again and discover how many of his memories still held true.

Every member of the gang was expected to contribute in one way or another to the festivities, and Jughead had volunteered his time the week prior to drop flyers into Southside mail boxes as a way of reminding the locals to turn up. He figured that way he would be free to actually enjoy the fun of the day without needing to pitch in and help cook food or set up tables. 

On the fourth of July when he awoke to the softly billowing curtains that framed his window and golden rays of sunlight cast across his bed, he was unsurprised to find his father already long gone for the day (the cold coffee in the pot being the clearest evidence of his much earlier departure). 

Jughead dressed languidly in blue jeans and a clean black tshirt, tying his favorite red flannel loosely around his waist because it was far too hot to actually wear it. For a moment he considered leaving his beanie at home, given the heat he could already feel emanating from outside the apartment. But despite the fact he'd gone literally years without the hat in prison, he still somehow felt uneasy about the thought. Finally he came to a compromise inside his own mind and tucked it carefully into his back pocket.

The party itself was always held in a big leafy park about halfway between the Wyrm and Sweetwater River. It was close enough that Jughead could leave his bike at home, so he wandered down on foot. 

By the time he arrived, there were at least two dozen families already gathered in the park and he could see a steady stream of locals making their way over. Large tents had been set up, along with long wooden tables that displayed a large quantity of food. A few of the older Serpents had even brought their guitars and were already playing music to keep the masses entertained. 

Toni, unsurprisingly, was at the makeshift bar. She was joined by Fox Hunter and they made busy work of serving alcohol to the grown-ups and soda to the kids. 

Jughead knew for a fact that the three stooges had been on set-up duty since early that morning (mainly because he'd read their names on the party roster stapled to the wall in his dad's office) so he knew their work would also be over for the day.

He spotted Fangs and Sweet Pea almost immediately, sitting on bench seats with some of the other off duty Serpent boys. They were already nursing beers and clearly having a good time. 

Jughead continued to scan the expanse of the park, his need and determination to know where Betty was at all times ever present. He almost had himself convinced that his behavior was purely borne from his need to know she was safe and okay. Almost. 

Eventually he caught sight of the back of her across the other side of the food tables. She looked somehow different - carefree and happy. It made his breath hitch in the back of his throat.

She was dressed much more appropriately for the weather than him in denim cut off shorts and a flimsy white halter top with her hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun. Even observing from behind the scene, Jughead was struck by the casual beauty of her. She was running barefoot on the grass, squealing with laughter as she reached down and scooped up a small child before throwing him as high as she could manage into the air.

Within moments a little girl was tugging excitedly on Betty's leg.

"My turn, Aunt Betty! It's my turn!" 

It dawned on Jughead with enraptured fascination that he was watching Betty interact with her niece and nephew. She turned to the girl, her eyes twinkling brightly and a broad smile gracing her lips before reaching down and grabbing her too. 

He wasn't sure he'd seen her look so... _herself_ in all the months since his return to town. It was a beautiful sight to behold. He wanted to keep watching her forever, but he knew eventually she would notice and then he’d just look like a pathetic creeper (which he was, but she definitely didn’t need to be made aware).

With one twin now hitched under each arm, Betty lugged them back towards the small table where Polly and Alice were sitting and chatting lazily with FP. Polly noticed him looking in their direction and waved enthusiastically. This in turn caught his dad's attention, and he beckoned Jughead over with a flick of his head. 

Jughead smiled but declined (because he definitely wasn't ready for round two of the Betty and Polly shit show that his presence would undoubtedly inspire), instead choosing to head towards Joaquin and Paulie who were hovering by the food.

“My man.” Joaquin greeted him with a firm handshake. “What a day to be alive, hey? I mean who doesn’t love free chips and dip?”

Jughead took a moment to truly appreciate the spread of goodies that surrounded him. Beef ribs, marinated chicken, juicy pork, oversized hotdogs, creamy potato salad, delicious burgers, sweet and savory pies and Alice Cooper’s famous homemade peach cobbler. It truly was a Jughead Jones wet dream.

“I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.” he murmured in delight, his mouth properly starting to salivate.

“You think the food is good?” Paulie laughed, clapping him enthusiastically on the back. “Wait until you check out what’s for dessert.”

Jughead just frowned in confusion until Paulie physically reached over and grabbed him by the chin then turned his head towards a group of girls who were standing nearby. But this action only assisted to confuse him further.

“Are those girls going to serve up dessert?” he asked.

His words were enough to send Joaquin and Paulie into raucous fits of laughter.

“No, you lame-brain.” Joaquin sniggered. “The girls _are_ the dessert.”

Jughead’s brows furrowed again in intrinsic skepticism. In truth he had no idea about women so he couldn’t really tell if the boys were joking or not.

He’d spent his formative years quietly pining over Betty while she’d quietly pined over Archie. She wasn’t exactly the only girl he’d ever kissed, but Betty Cooper was definitely the only girl he’d ever loved, dated or slept with. And whilst Jughead knew he was now a mature twenty-one year old, there hadn’t exactly been a lot of opportunities to hone his suave lady-charmer skills (or lack thereof) in prison.

“More like Jughead here is their dessert.” Paulie interjected cheekily. “Those girls are ravenous Jug, and you’re the flavor of the month.”

This time it was Jughead’s turn to laugh. He’d honestly never heard of anything so silly. The truth was that the Serpent girls actively avoided him. As far as they were concerned, Jughead was like the plague. Or sarin gas. Or napalm. Or that unnerving version of Justin Timberlake who permed his hair and wore denim on denim at the American Music Awards.

The obvious exception was, of course, his female BFF Toni. But their relationship was purely and completely platonic (except for that one gross night back in sophomore year of high school that would low key haunt them both until their dying days…).

What’s more, Jughead was _glad_ the Serpent girls had no interest in him. Because he had absolutely no interest in any of them (again, there was that one glaringly obvious exception, but even she fully adhered to the Jughead Jones avoidance rule).

Nonetheless, looking closely at these girls, it occured to Jughead that they weren’t Serpents at all. Southsiders, yes. But not part of the gang. There were seven, or maybe eight of them in total. A few were definitely young enough to still be in high school, but others were likely closer to Jughead in age. Not that he could definitively tell with all that makeup caked on their faces.

“The Serpents girls aren’t supposed to fraternize with you.” Joaquin said, almost as if reading Jughead’s mind. “Because…you know.”

No. Jughead did _not_ know.

“But word got around this part of town that the bad boy Serpent hottie is back from jail.” Paulie continued, picking up where Joaquin left off. “And now they all want a taste of the Serpent Prince.”

Before Jughead could even begin to process the genuinely daunting news that people other than his immediate friends and family were discussing him, or the fact they were referring to him as a quote unquote _bad boy hottie,_ he realized with dread that he’d been staring at the gaggle of girls too long and they’d clearly taken it as an invitation to approach.

Two of the older, more confident looking girls adjusted their mini skirts and started trekking determinedly towards him – their stiletto heels sinking awkwardly into the grass with every step.

“Have fun.” Joaquin whispered excitedly in his ear.

Then before Jughead could even open his mouth to protest, Joaquin and Paulie both vanished into thin air. Or rather, they headed over to join the other Serpent boys. But they might as well have disappeared in thin air for all the help he knew they were going to offer him.

The little hairs on his arms all stood to attention and goose bumps rippled achingly across his skin. He suddenly felt the need to check on Betty. For some reason, it concerned him that she would possibly witness the forthcoming inevitable train wreck and then laugh at his expense.

Glancing over at the table, he was completely shocked to see Betty’s eyes planted firmly on him. But even across the park he could see the happy-go-lucky girl he’d witnessed playing with Juniper and Dagwood only moments earlier had been replaced by a pale and solemn looking creature. She definitely wasn’t laughing.

Yet. 

“Hi.”

Jughead swallowed heavily and cleared his throat before turning apprehensively towards the owner of the discombobulated voice. Effortlessly, the two girls flanked him and effectively trapped him in place by the table.

“Uh…hi.” he muttered, hand moving to scratch the back of his neck in unbridled anxiety.

“I’m Charity.” the taller of the two girls practically purred, before indicating across to her friend. “And this is Serenity.”

Because of course those were their names.

Jughead barely had any idea how to deal with girls named Susan or Patricia let alone Charity and Serenity.

Not that he _wanted_ to deal with them.

He just wanted them to go away.

In a nice way. Not like, in a way that meant he held any malice towards them. Because he definitely didn’t. He just wanted to be left alone. He was an island. A Serpent island. He wanted to stand alone. Which he knew contravened the Serpent law that no man was to stand alone. But couldn’t they make an exception for him? And…were his hands always that sweaty? And oh God what was that weird ringing noise in his ears?

He rapidly blinked his eyes a few times and realized in horror that the taller girl – _Charity_ – was still talking to him.

“…apple pie or not?” she asked sweetly.

He glanced down to her hands and noticed that she was now holding a red, white and blue striped paper plate with a large slice of pie and a healthy side of cream sitting prettily in the middle.

Unsure what else to do, he held his own hands open and she deposited the plate there with a satisfied grin.

“Thanks.” he mumbled.

Before he could do anything else, she scooped a slither of the pie onto a fork and then held it up to his mouth.

“Open up, cutie.” she giggled.

Jughead was like a deer caught in the headlights. He had no idea what to do, other than slowly but surely let his bottom jaw drop so that Charity could push the pie past his lips. The dessert was amazing, but given the sentiment with which it had found it’s way to his tastebuds, it suddenly resembled cardboard on his tongue.

At that moment, he chanced another look over at Betty. She’d moved from the table and was now standing several feet away holding an extremely tense conversation with Fangs. Her arms were folded defensively across her chest and she was vehemently shaking her head, whilst Fangs was passionately talking a mile a minute and pointing ardently in Jughead's direction. Suddenly Fangs shouted “Queenie, go!” loud enough for the entire park to hear and then physically shoved her towards the food tables. She shrieked and quickly doubled back to smack him in the chest.

Jughead’s mouth dropped open in surprise, which was then abruptly filled with pie once more as Charity seized the moment. This time he wasn’t expected it and nearly choked. He turned back to the girl as he finished his coughing and spluttering and noticed that she looked entirely unconcerned for his lack of ability to breathe.

“So I was wondering if you wanted to take me out sometime?” she asked, batting her eyelashes in what Jughead assumed was her extreme flirt mode. “I’m free on Friday. You could take me to the Bijou?”

“Sorry I’m busy Friday.” Jughead lied smoothly, somehow finding some people skills buried inside the depths of his conscious mind.

“Saturday then.” she countered without missing a beat. “You don’t have to take me to the Bijou. You can take me to dinner. Or even just to your bedroom. I don’t mind.”

Jughead’s eyebrows raised almost to his hairline at her obnoxious forwardness. He wondered if girls had always been so brash or if the dating scene had evolved during his time of incarceration.

Jughead’s eyes automatically flicked over to Betty for a third time. But his stomach sank as he witnessed her retreating back. She was clutching tightly at Sweet Pea’s hand and together they were power walking towards the road that would lead them back to the Whyte Wyrm. Sweet Pea was snapping angry words over his shoulder at Fangs, who was trailing along behind them and still clearly putting up a good argument about whatever had the trio all riled up.

“So how about it?” Charity asked, drawing his attention once more. “Pick me up at six?”

“Sorry.” Jughead said lowly. “You seem like a nice girl but I’m just not looking for anything at the moment.”

Without another thought he pushed past the openly stunned girls and retreated to the safety of Toni’s side. She offered him a tight lipped knowing smile, but thankfully knew him well enough to say nothing.

The whole tableau of some sexy looking minx asking him on a date (or, more pointedly, for a romp between the sheets) whilst the perfectly imperfect girl-next-door-cum-biker-girl who still held his heart was leaving the party with some other guy was like a hot slap of reality across his pretty boy ( _bad boy hottie_ ) face.

Never mind the fact that he knew the guy she was leaving with was more like a brother to her than anything else. It was just further proof that their lives were completely moving in different directions.

Sure, Polly had helpfully informed him that Betty wasn’t currently attached. But of course she would meet a guy who piqued her interest at some point in the future. And furthermore he would inevitably end up with some other girl too. Their lives would continue on; but separately.

Jughead knew he had to find a way to shutter his own feelings. He knew with absolute clarity that he needed to find a way to move on with his life. Move on without Betty, or even any hope of Betty. He didn’t know what was wrong with him or what still called his heart to her. He just needed to let her go.

And yet, for the remainder of the party he kept his eyes trained steadfastly on that stretch of road. Waiting for her. Watching for her. Willing her to reappear. And hating his life when she never did.

It was just over a week after the fourth of July event when Jughead, along with every other Serpent, was summoned to the Wyrm for a club meeting.

Jughead came lumbering downstairs from the apartment to find Alice Cooper in the back office taking a very serious inventory. He waved at her awkwardly and she smiled in acknowledgement, before he continued out into the main bar area where a huge group of Serpents was already congregated.

To his mild horror, he noticed that Toni was already sitting up the back and sharing a table with Fangs, Sweet Pea and Betty. Even as dread sank into the pit of his stomach, Jughead knew he had no right to be upset. Toni was an ‘OG’ member of the three musketeers and by her own admission also friendly with Betty. She had a right to sit there if she wanted to and he certainly wasn’t going to attempt to come between her and her other friends.

Just as Jughead ducked his head and started to creep inconspicuously through the crowded room towards Joaquin, Toni noticed him and her eyes lit up like Christmas trees.

“Jones! Over here! I saved you a seat!”

Jughead’s eyes flashed in abject terror as he looked up at her and immediately began shaking his head. But then Fangs also waved and patted the vacant seat between them. It was like something out of a twisted nightmare.

Jughead groaned aloud, knowing he would much rather have a tooth pulled than sit with Huey, Dewey and Louie but silently acknowledging he would look like a total prick if he ignored their eager beckoning and just kept walking.

Even as he reluctantly made his way towards them and started to awkwardly sink into the seat they’d allocated, Betty leaned across the table towards Fangs to angrily hiss “what’s wrong with you, you little Judas?” and Sweet Pea shook his head in disgust. They clearly weren’t planning on rolling out the welcome mat for him.

In all fairness Betty’s question was rather valid, and one Jughead wouldn’t have minded asking himself (except he likely wouldn’t have used the name Judas - that would indubitably have been taking things a step too far). Because Jughead had no idea what was wrong with Fangs or what had gotten into him the past few weeks to suddenly change his opinion of him so strongly.

“So are you excited?” Toni bubbled happily, drawing his attention away from his own thoughts.

“About what?” Jughead asked, scratching his chin.

“The Serpent Slither of course!” she replied, as if it were somehow the most obvious answer in the world.

 _What the fuck is the Serpent Slither,_ Jughead wondered _._

“It’s our annual club bonding event.” Fangs explained enthusiastically, and only then did Jughead realize he’d actually spoken his thoughts aloud. “The entire club rides together for ten days every summer. No business, no illegal activity, no fighting, just hanging out together and making sweet memories.”

Well. Color Jughead confused.

He slowly pulled his beanie off his head, cleared his throat and then drew his bottom lip between his teeth, for lack of anything coherent to say. The Serpents he’d known before he went to prison only rode together to collect bike parts (usually but not always stolen) or deal with official business (usually but not always something involving thuggery). There was certainly no ‘bonding’ taking place outside the Wyrm.

“And you call this event…the…Serpent Slither?” he finally spluttered. “Sorry I'm not buying it. That’s gotta be both the stupidest idea and the worst name I’ve ever heard.”

“Well it was my suggestion.” Betty snapped furiously, her eyes shooting ice cold daggers in his direction. “If you’re actually going to pretend like you belong and sit here with us, keep your damn opinions to yourself.”

Jughead gasped and then immediately clamped his jaw firmly shut. It was the first time he and Betty had directly interacted in almost two months, but he suddenly felt like he’d just been slapped.

“We’ve been doing this for three years now, Jug. It’s honestly worked wonders to make us all feel like a legitimate family.” Toni explained with a little more warmth and tact. “This year we’re super excited because we’re road tripping all the way down to Florida. Have you ever been?”

Jughead was about to open his mouth to reply when his father came into the room carrying all the dignified airs of the Serpent King and beckoned Sweet Pea to join him at the front. Sweet Pea wordlessly rose from his chair and pushed his way through to join FP on the small stage.

“Welcome and thanks for coming out tonight.” FP’s voice boomed across the Wyrm, and the room abruptly fell into a concentrated silence as all eyes turned towards him. “I’d like to acknowledge Sweet Pea here, who has stepped up to act as assistant organizer of this year’s Slither. We’re going to run you through the itinerary for our trip now and ask that you save any questions until the end.”

Sweet Pea looked excruciatingly smug and pleased with himself, especially as he received a half-hearted smattering of applause from the gang as he stepped up to start explaining the plans for each day the Serpents would be away.

“Pea is really keen for this Slither because he’s finally going to see his sisters.” Toni whispered, leaning so close to Jughead that he was sure they were the only two in the room who could hear her words.  

In his peripheral vision, he could see Betty giving them some seriously aggressive side eye but wisely chose not to acknowledge her.

“His sisters?” Jughead whispered back instead.

“You didn’t know?” Toni asked. “His Mom pulled a Gladys Jones right around the time you were first arrested. She claimed the Serpents were a bad influence, so she took Sweet Pea’s two little sisters and moved them down to Alexandria. We’re passing right through Virginia on our way to Daytona so he’s going to see them for the first time in three years.”

“Whoa.” Jughead gasped. “No wonder the guy hates me.”

Jughead’s response was clearly much louder than he’d intended because Fangs then leaned across to add his own two cents.

“And I’m fully pumped for the trip because there’s a girl I’ve been chatting to for months on Plenty of Fish who lives in Jacksonville.” he chirped. “So we’re finally going to hook up!”

Once again Jughead was rendered speechless and could do nothing except raise his eyebrows in surprise. First and foremostly because he still had no idea when or why Fangs had decided to ingratiate him as part of the inner circle and secondly because he hadn’t realized Fangs even swung _that_ way.

Before Jughead could even start to scramble for something to contribute in reply, the authoritative chatter at the front was brusquely cut off, which drew the attention of everybody sitting at the table.

Jughead watched as Alice hastily made her way from the office over to the stage, and the two men standing upon it immediately stopped what they were doing to crouch down and converse with her. She was clutching her cell phone to her chest and Jughead was sure he hadn’t seen her look so upset since right after the shady man was murdered.  

As Alice spoke in a terse yet panicked whisper, FP’s smiling face melted into a terrible scowl. Sweet Pea went a step further, cursing loudly and then locking eyes with the nervous looking blonde at the back table.

It was in that instant that Jughead knew, without even hearing a word of their conversation, that Betty Cooper had yet again done something either really bad or really stupid and landed herself in more hot water. The blood started pumping so hard and fast in his veins that he could hear the rhythmic pounding echoing in his ears.

“Please tell me your mom is kidding, Queenie.” Sweet Pea growled, standing and drawing himself up to his full height. “Please tell me you haven’t just blown this fucking trip for me.”

Fangs gasped and turned to his left. “After everything we’ve been through this past week with you. Queenie are you fucking insane?”

Jughead could do nothing but helplessly watch as Betty stood and then rushed from the room, the door to the kitchen left swinging in her wake. Seconds later Fangs, Sweet Pea, FP and Alice were all storming after her.

Toni sat in stunned silence for just a moment then leapt to her feet and grabbed Jughead by the sleeve of his jacket.

“Come on.” she hissed, before promptly pushing her way through the crowd to follow them.

Jughead distinctly remembered the time two months ago when something similar had happened in almost the exact same spot. Betty had been in some kind of trouble then too, but when he’d tried to follow he’d been shut out and left alone in the back hallway of the Wyrm.  

He wasn’t sure what exactly had changed that made Toni suggest he tag along this time, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He nervously cracked his knuckles to release the tension in his hands then rose from his seat.

By the time he made his way through the swell of Serpents and into the kitchen, the Betty Cooper Appreciation Club was already deep in conversation (and clearly not overly appreciative at that particular moment). Jughead practically tip toed into the room, lest he be turfed back out into the bar area again.

Both his father and Fangs briefly looked up to recognize he had entered the room, but neither said anything and quickly returned their attention to the discussion at hand. Jughead took that as indication that he would be allowed to bear witness to the fallout from whatever Betty had done so he found a quiet place near the wall.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Betty was moaning. “I fucked up. But I won’t do it again.”

“Queenie you say that every time!” Toni said, practically shouting. 

“But I really mean it this time. I won’t.” Betty responded, desperation dripping from her lips as she spoke.  

FP opened his mouth to speak, but Alice interjected by holding her hand up to his face then turning to face her daughter.

“You’re damn right you won’t.” she snapped. “Do you have any idea what could have happened last night? I mean honestly Elizabeth. I shouldn’t have to find all this out from your sister. What if the Ghoulies get involved again? Do you understand how dangerous this is, Elizabeth? Do you understand?”

“Yes Mom!” Betty cried. “I understand, okay?” she then turned to FP as tears began to well then threatened to spill from her eyes. “I take full responsibility for what I did but _please_ don’t do this. Please think of a different punishment for me.”

FP scoffed and shook his head. “Girl you’ve got some nerve. I warned you the last time you did this. I told you that if you pulled any more of your little stunts that I’d put you on probation. Oh and guess what? Serpents on probation _don’t_ attend the Slither.”

“You know what?” she asked, her sadness suddenly morphing into spitfire anger. “Fine! I don’t care! I’m outta here!”

In an unexpected move, she ripped her black leather jacket off, tossed it roughly in FP’s direction and started heading for the exit.

“Hope you all have fun in Florida.” she practically spat, glancing in sarcastic blitheness over her shoulder as she reached the door.

“You know the drill, boys.” FP said sternly, indicating to both Sweet Pea and Fangs that they should follow after her.

Betty gasped in both shock and indignation then spun so swiftly on her heel that Jughead almost felt sea sick just watching her.

“The boys have nothing to do with this.” she shrieked. “I’m officially on probation now, right? What I do with my life has nothing to do with them.”

“It’s their job to keep you safe, kid.” FP replied, ever so calm compared to Betty’s hysteria. “That job sticks whether you’re on probation or not. So if you’re not going on the Slither neither are they.”

At that exact moment all hell broke loose in the kitchen of the Whyte Wyrm. All the baby Serpents were suddenly shouting at once, pointing fingers and slamming their fists against the kitchen benchtop. The whole situation reminded Jughead just a little too much of a prison brawl, and he shrank as far as he could into the wall.

“No you can’t do this! You can’t take this trip away from us!”

“I’m so fucking mad Queenie! You knew this was my one chance to see my sisters!”

“Fuck you Pea! As if it’s my fault he’s making you stay? It’s not my fault Polly can’t keep her mouth shut!”

“I can’t believe you’ve done this Queenie. I’ll never forgive you!”

“Queenie you ruin everything!”

“Please FP there’s got to be another way!”

“I don’t have a choice.” FP’s voice loomed over the others and frightened everyone into abrupt silence. When he spoke again, his words were quiet yet commanding. “We all know you can’t be trusted on your own - history tells us you do really stupid shit when left to your own devices.”

Betty glanced over at Sweet Pea (who appeared as if he really wasn’t sure whether he wanted to punch the wall or cry) before turning her attention back to FP.

“I understand that.” she said, her voice suddenly calm as well. “But please don’t punish the boys for my mistakes. They’ve kept me safe for years and they deserve to go on the Slither. Please can I just stay with my mom?”

Alice, who had remained uncharacteristically silent since her initial outburst, stepped forward then. She shared a very pointed look with Sweet Pea, then Fangs, then finally FP before nodding her head seemingly in agreement.

“That’s a fine solution, Elizabeth.” she said solemnly. “I have to be here anyway to oversee the Wyrm while the Serpents are away. You can stay with me in Greendale at night and then spend your days helping me at the bar. But if there’s any silliness on your part I’ll put you on a plane and send you to Nova Scotia to let your father deal with you. Do I make myself clear?”

Betty involuntarily shuddered at the mention of Nova Scotia, but nonetheless nodded enthusiastically. In seconds, Sweet Pea and Fangs were excitedly rushing to Betty and wrapping her up in a fervent group hug. After a slight hesitation, Toni moved to join them and was openly accepted into the pile on.

Jughead shook his head in confusion at their swift outburst of happiness, but also found himself smiling as he watched them. Serpents had moods more changeable than the weather and he was done trying to keep up with them.

“Before you all get too excited,” FP cleared his throat and interjected. “I want to remind you all that Ally isn’t available until day two of the Slither…”

The snugfest broke apart as quickly as it began, and four horrified faces turned towards the grown-ups.

“Oh shoot, that’s right.” Alice groaned in exasperation. “The Wyrm will be shut on the day the Slither leaves town because I’m at a Women in Journalism conference in New York and don’t return until late that evening.”

“FP please tell me you’re joking.” Betty cried, that changeable mood once again performing a dramatic 180. “I’m okay to be on my own for _one day!_ It’s just one freakin’ day! Give us all a break!”

“No can do.” FP said firmly. “You’re on probation _and_ you’re under guard every single day until further notice. Right now I trust you about as far as I could throw you. With Ally around I'll only need one of you boys. So which one will it be?”

Fangs sighed heavily and then raised his hand. “Sweet Pea you really ought to go see your family. I’ll stay with Queenie.”

“Hey man that’s okay.” Sweet Pea countered graciously, trying and failing to hide his disappointment. “I know how much you want to meet that sexy little mama in Jacksonville. My sisters will still be there next time, so you go ahead.”

Suddenly it occured to Jughead that he finally had a chance to win some brownie points with Sweet Pea and perhaps even start the journey towards getting back on his good side (that is, if he ever _was_ on his good side – even back in high school).

Being on Sweet Pea’s Christmas card list certainly hadn’t ever been a top priority for Jughead, but ever since discovering the truth that he and Fangs had both physically and emotionally protected Betty for the entirety of his jail term he suddenly felt like he owed the guy a few favors. And that was _before_ he found out that the guy’s family uprooted and headed south due to the fallout from his murder trial.

Yes, helping out Sweet Pea and reuniting him with his sisters was definitely on Jughead’s bucket list.

“Um, I think you guys are missing an obvious fact here.” he announced, pushing himself off the wall and taking a few steps towards them.

Betty and Alice both audibly gasped in shock, clearly not having realized that he’d been lurking in the kitchen the whole time. Betty in particular looked truly appalled by his presence, and maybe slightly embarrassed.

“What fact is that?” Toni asked, peering around Fangs to look him in the eye.

“Well I won’t be going on the Slither…” Jughead began, trailing off awkwardly as he glanced up at the blank looks he was receiving.

“Of course you are, Jones!” Toni said determinedly. 

Jughead exhaled sharply. Judging by the dumbstruck looks on everyone’s faces he knew they had no idea what he was trying to imply. He still really didn’t want to openly talk about it, but in that moment he saw no other option.

“I…uh. I’m on parole. Remember?” he explained stutteringly. “So I can’t cross state lines. As nice as Florida probably is this time of year, I’m going to have to give it a miss.”

Jughead couldn’t be entirely certain, but he was at least 99 percent sure the temperature in the room dropped dramatically at that exact moment. It was like somebody had poured a vat of cold water over all of them.  

FP ran a hand across his face in frustration and then swore mostly under his breath. “I’m sorry Jug. I didn’t think. I should have known. I’ll make it up to you.”

Jughead tried to shrug noncommittally and make it seem like the whole thing wasn’t a big deal, but even he could recognize that he didn’t quite pull the act off. The reality that nobody including his best friend or his father (who even possessed a criminal record of his own) had thought through the implications of his parole was an especially bitter pill to swallow. 

But he needed to swallow it nonetheless if he wanted to make good on his own silent promise to get Sweet Pea to Alexandria.

“It’s fine, Dad.” he said quietly. “I’m just offering to help, is all.”

It was Alice Cooper who was the first to connect the dots and her vacant face suddenly became enthusiastically animated.

“That’s perfect, Jughead.” she gushed. “I’ll be leaving the city in the early evening and expect to be home by eight o’clock. Would you prefer me to come here or would you rather spend the day at my place in Greendale?”

The penny dropped for Betty about two and a half seconds later and when her face did the whole Cooper lighting up thing, it was obvious she was furious. Her anger was so pungent it virtually crackled in the air.

“No. No no no. I won’t do it. I’m not spending the day with… _him._ ” she seethed, pointing a delicate yet accusing finger in Jughead's direction.

Finally the other four souls in the room understood exactly what Jughead’s ‘offer’ entailed. It was immediately clear that FP, Alice, Fangs and Toni all thought the idea of Jughead stepping up to 'Betty Cooper guard duty' until Alice could take over was absolutely brilliant. It was also immediately clear that Sweet Pea, obviously alongside Betty, thought the idea was basically sickening.

“I’ll stay.” Sweet Pea said sternly, allowing those two little words to convey so much more meaning.

“Pea, are you for real?” Toni goaded. “It’s literally one day! You really think Jughead isn’t up to the task of babysitting for one day? You really want to miss seeing your family for the sake of _one_ day?”

“It doesn’t matter what he is or isn’t capable of.” Betty snapped. “I’m not doing it and that’s final.”

“Is it though?” Fangs asked lowly. “Because it sounds to me like what you’re saying is you’d rather force Sweet Pea to miss out on seeing his beloved sisters for the first time in _three_ years just so you don’t have to spend a few hours in a house with Jughead.”

The words cut through Betty’s weak refusal like a hot knife through butter. When she once again turned to Jughead, there was both resignation and disgust deeply seated in her eyes.

“Fine.” she conceded slowly, drawing her top teeth menacingly across her bottom lip as she spoke. “But I’m going to make you wish you’d never suggested this. Understand? I’m going to make this the day from hell.”

Jughead tried desperately to keep his expression neutral, but he was pretty sure everyone could see the terror lurking not far from the surface. Consciously hardening his face, he narrowed his eyes at the blonde opposite him.

“Understood.” he replied darkly. “Challenge accepted.”

Then without another moment’s hesitation he turned and left the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming soon: Chapter 10 - The Day From Hell (aka Betty and Jughead are alone in the same house for the entire day) Whatever do you think may happen... ;)


	10. The Day From Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know what? That’s fine. You go and have a nap.” he shouted, his voice becoming more heightened with each syllable uttered. “Nap the whole day away if you like because that will just make it easier for me to babysit you. But you aren’t sleeping in my bed because you absolutely aren’t allowed in my bedroom. And don’t even think about it Betty because I will fully lose my temper and when that happens you’ll…you’ll…well you’ll just be sorry.”
> 
> He ran out of steam and abruptly stopped yelling, just long enough to glean that she was quietly laughing. Laughing. Actually laughing. As if the whole thing was nothing more than a joke to her.
> 
> She was so damn infuriating and oddly enough it was making him equally enraged and enraptured by her. He wasn’t sure what to even do with himself anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thank you so much for all your feedback on my recent chapters. It makes me so happy to know some of you are enjoying my first ever attempt at this writing thing. 
> 
> I'm powering through this work now and to make up for the fact I've been absent for a couple of weeks here's a 10,000 word mega chapter coming at you all. Lots more answers coming your way too! Some of the themes towards the end of this chapter are pretty heavy and may seem out of character (particularly for Betty) but as usual not all is as it seems. We are getting closer to the exciting stuff now so please stick with me on this one haha.
> 
> Also - I borrowed a few lines from a Charles Dickens novel and an Agatha Christie novel for this chapter. I'm hoping that's okay as long as I give full credit for the words I used (which are very explicitly referenced to the authors in my work).

It struck Jughead as slightly odd that the Serpent Slither was highly planned out for maximum efficiency.  Mainly because he expected any kind of group bonding activity organized by a wily biker gang would probably be best described as haphazard and ad hoc.

But in reality the itinerary had been carefully crafted by FP, his cocky assistant Sweet Pea and other senior gang members to run like clockwork. Even those old fashioned school calculators had been used to determine the exact distance in miles the group would ride each day, the number of hours the Serpents would have to socialize and the precise locations they would set up camp each night in order to make the round trip to Florida both within the allocated number of days and as stress-free as possible.

It was decided that the gang would set off in the pre-dawn, traveling south on the interstate 95 each day until the sun reached it's peak in the sky and it became too humid to continue. They would then set up camp at each pre-allocated destination and be allowed four hours of free time (time, for example, which Fangs planned to use to hook up with his random online girlfriend) before the entire group reconvened for dinner and camp fire bonding activities before retiring to bed.

The whole affair was so meticulously planned it almost sounded exhausting, but despite the strict adherence to a tight schedule the entire gang was bursting at the seams with excitement.

So when the day of departure finally arrived, and a hand written sign was taped messily to the front door of the Wyrm announcing it would be closed until the following day, the enthusiastic atmosphere in the parking lot was practically palpable. Dozens of Serpents hurried around in the darkness making final preparations to their bikes, cracking jokes and laughing. The sunrise was still at least another forty-five minutes away and the sky was yet to even begin lightening in anticipation, but already engines were firing up as the Serpents prepared to set off on their trek.

Jughead watched from his solitary perch on the front step as the only sullen figure in the parking lot, her blonde hair loose around her waist and her face completely scrubbed clean of makeup, hovered between Fangs and Sweet Pea's bikes, wringing her hands nervously and talking to them both in hushed whispers.

The boys, whilst clearly excited for their journey, were obviously reticent and reluctant to leave their little Queenie on her own. They kept reaching out to touch her and comfort her. Sweet Pea seemed at least a little concerned about her potential behavior while he was away and Jughead could hear him sternly ordering her to be good and to stick close to her mother. Fangs seemed more worried for her mental health and brought her into a tight hug - promising to call her every day and instructing she should take care of herself.

"You be okay without me, Jones?" Toni asked, drawing Jughead's attention.

She was sitting nearby on her bike with her large backpack already slung across her shoulders and the bike's engine purring.

"Oh you're still here?" Jughead smirked. "I thought you'd gone already."

"Ouch! You wound me!" she laughed, shaking her head before becoming serious. "I'll see you in ten days, okay?"

"I'll be counting on it." Jughead said, his heart warm with genuine fondness for his firecracker of a best friend.

FP approached then and Jughead rose to his feet just in time for his father to smack him affectionately on the back before pulling him into a brisque hug.

"Take care of yourself, boy." he said, worry evident in his eyes.

"I'll be fine, Dad." Jughead replied. "I'll be keeping to myself. What could possibly go wrong?"

FP's eyes automatically swept across the parking lot and came to rest where Betty was wrapped in Sweet Pea's arms and sobbing quietly.

"Just...be careful." he said lowly and Jughead really wasn't sure if FP was issuing the warning to him or somehow to Betty. "I love you."

"I love you too, Dad." Jughead said, before sinking back down onto the step.

As the Serpents started peeling out of the parking lot and heading down the darkened street, Jughead watched as FP and Betty embraced one another and his father then issued her a similar warning to be careful and stay out of trouble. Without another word, Betty then ducked her head and disappeared through the door of the Wyrm.

Once the last few stragglers dissolved into the pitch black, with FP taking up the rear, Jughead sighed and headed inside.

As he made his way upstairs to the apartment he suddenly felt his stomach somersaulting with anxiety. Glancing through the chaotic cracks in the glass of his phone screen he gleaned that it was 4.46am. Alice and her famous Cooper punctuality were due to arrive at precisely eight o'clock, so he had exactly fifteen hours and fourteen minutes to survive alone in an apartment with Betty Cooper. Surely he could manage it? Suddenly he wasn't so sure.

When he entered the dimly lit apartment, he very nearly tripped over the pair of black boots that Betty had carelessly discarded by the front door. He let out an awkward yelp but quickly steadied himself by clutching onto the door frame, and as he did so he caught sight of her leather Serpents jacket tossed over the back of a chair and her large duffel bag deposited on the kitchen benchtop. The top of the bag was open and items of clothing had spilled onto the floor below.

Jughead had no idea how Betty had managed to veritably trash the place in less than five minutes, and yet he was staring at the proof. The Betty Cooper he'd known since kindergarten was nothing if not meticulously tidy, so he had to assume she'd created the mess in a deliberate attempt to get under his skin.

But he wasn't going to let her do that.

He was going to remain cool, calm and collected for the next (he glanced at his phone screen again) fifteen hours and thirteen minutes.

Sensing movement, his eyes flicked to the couch where Betty was curled up in the almost darkness and clearly attempting to sleep. Well if she was going to be immature, two could play at that game. Jughead coughed loudly and then reached over to switch on the bright fluorescent lights that illuminated the entire open living space of the apartment. Betty immediately gasped and sat bolt upright, looking over at him with rage painted across the normally sweet features of her face.

"Oh sorry." Jughead shrugged nonchalantly. "I didn't see you there."

Jughead 1; Betty 0, he thought smugly.

She opened her mouth as if to bite back, then obviously thought better of it and offered him nothing more than a creepily false saccharine smile. In an exaggerated movement she stretched her arms up over her head and yawned, then stood and shuffled on socked feet over to the kitchen. She breezed right past him and pulled open the fridge door to peer at the contents inside.

"Okay sure - make yourself right at home..." Jughead muttered, watching her as if dumbstruck by her audacity.

He'd spoken so quietly he wasn't sure if she'd even heard him until she shot him a smug look over her shoulder.

"Don't worry, I will." she said languidly, casting her eyes back to the milk and butter on the top shelf. "I mean this is practically my home anyway."

_Jughead do not take the bait. Jughead do not take the bait._

"What do you mean by that?"

_Damn it Jughead._

This time she didn't even bother to glance back at him, as she reached into the fridge and started shifting condiments in search of God knew what. When she spoke, it was slowly and leisurely. Like she was enjoying laboring the point, just to prolong his torture.

"Well you know my Mom and I are the ones who put this whole place together right? Polly helped but we did most of it. You didn't actually think FP decorated the apartment did you?"

"Uh...no. I guess I didn't know that." Jughead fumbled, trying hard to hold his ground despite the shock of her words.

But thinking about it, of course it made sense. The very first time he'd ever stepped foot in the space he'd been confronted by the lack of 'Jonesness' in the home. To be fair, none of the furnishings screamed 'Cooper' either, so he supposed they'd deliberately gone for a style that met somewhere in the middle of the two (with the Coopers style being upmarket snobby and the Jones style being consignment store trailer trash).

But Jughead also knew that the Whyte Wyrm had only been purchased the previous year - long after Betty's determination to save the Southside for him ended with a bounty on her head.

So that left him with the obvious question as to which of the Cooper women had gone to the trouble of decorating his bedroom so genuinely and thoughtfully. Polly with her exhausting enthusiasm and niceness or Alice with perhaps a healthy dose of quiet guilt over his jail sentence?

Jughead's internal ponderings were cut abruptly short when Betty pulled back from the fridge and slammed it closed, before heading to the cupboards. She fastidiously opened each door and peered inside before moving methodically to the next. She left each door open as she went, and it soon looked like a poltergeist had been fucking with the kitchen aesthetic.

"Where's the coffee?" she asked, after finally reaching the last cupboard and coming up empty.

Jughead's stomach dropped as he vaguely remembered his father mentioning the need for a quick trip to the Stop & Shop.

"I...I think we're out." he responded unsurely.

Betty scoffed at that. "You're not serious. You expect me to survive here all day without caffeine? What a farce."

Jughead shuddered at the hostility in her voice and took a step forward to lean up against the kitchen island. He didn't want to beg for her to stand down from whatever one woman crusade she was currently on, but he really didn't see how they were going to make it to sun down without a murder being commited (and he still wasn't one hundred percent clear on who would likely be the murderer).

"Look. We're stuck here all day together." he said, trying to come across more placating than demanding. "We don't have to be best friends but please for one day can we both just behave like two normal human beings?"

Something oddly fierce sparked in Betty's eyes. It was almost like witnessing the exact moment a lioness realized she was going to succeed in taking down her prey. A nanosecond later the spark was gone and she threw him that weirdly fake smile again.

"Of course." she said sweetly. "I can behave like two normal people if you can. Though I'm not entirely sure this kitchen is big enough to fit the four of us."

Before his brain could churn over her wise-guy response, she waltzed back past him, extracted a paperback from her bag (deliberately knocking more clothes onto the floor in the process) and moved to sit on the couch again. It was like she'd suddenly won an argument that neither of them had actually verbalized. But he knew they'd both felt the atmospheric shift that left the power firmly on her side of the apartment.

Jughead 1; Betty 1, he silently re-evaluated.

With Betty ensconced in her reading (she was nose deep in a book called _Women who kill: Profiles of Female Serial Killers_ , which Jughead wryly assumed was intended to cause him some level of discomfort), he looked back toward the open cupboard doors and was reminded of their lack of coffee situation. Whilst he knew Betty had merely been goading him, it was a truth universally acknowledged that both current occupants of the apartment were in want of caffeine. 

Without doubt there was coffee downstairs in the Wyrm and Jughead started contemplating whether he could go downstairs to fetch it. There was a commercial espresso machine in the bar but he assumed standing around waiting for milk to froth was probably not going to be the best use of his time. He was, however, almost certain he’d seen a large glass jar of instant coffee downstairs – perhaps stashed away as a back-up if the machine broke.

Putting aside the fact his father had told him off several times for using the downstairs kitchen as if it was his own (it wasn't his fault neither of them were capable of picking up groceries on the regular, was it?) he was unsure of the protocols surrounding Betty and his duties as her guard.

He knew that she tended to act up or find herself in trouble, but he wasn't sure if his job as her jailer meant he couldn't leave her alone for even the shortest period of time. He didn't know how serious her flight risk was. If he went downstairs to collect the jar of Nescafe, what was the likelihood he would return to an empty apartment? It was an anxiety inducing gamble.

His eyes firmly planted on Betty, who was decidedly ignoring him, he began carefully shuffling towards the exit. He felt blindly for the handle, slowly turned it, opened the door and slipped out onto the staircase. As soon as the door was carefully closed behind him, he turned and ran like a bat out of hell. He took the stairs two at a time, dashed into the Wyrm’s kitchen with his heart hammering in his ears and began wildly searching for the jar.

He finally spotted it on a shelf near a very large quantity of spam in cans (and reminded himself to perhaps stop eating Wyrm burgers if that’s what they were passing off as meat) and then raced back upstairs. He moved so quickly he was probably a blur to the naked human eye. Like the Southside’s answer to Usain Bolt and Superman embodied in one amazing creature.

He threw open the front door with such force that it slammed into the connected wall with a loud thud and then frantically scanned the room in search of his unwilling house guest.

And there she was.

Still on the couch.

In truth, it looked like she hadn’t moved an inch the entire five minutes he’d been gone, except perhaps to turn over the pages of her book. Upon his abrupt entrance, her bright green eyes flashed up to him and she quirked an eyebrow.

“The fuck?” she asked dryly, scrutinizing him even through her mask of nonchalance.

All at once Jughead felt more than just a little bit stupid. Clearly he’d way overestimated the need to guard Betty’s every movement because she obviously had no intention of going anywhere.

“I…I…got some coffee.” Jughead wheezed as he struggled to catch his breath.

He waved the jar limply in the stale air that hung between them, as if she was somehow requiring proof of his acquisition. Betty, though, remained motionless and sat looking at him like he’d suddenly grown a penis off the side of his neck.

“From where?” she asked. “Brazil? Why are you so sweaty?”

Jughead just shook his head as if to chase away the need to answer her (admittedly valid) question and stumbled into the kitchen to boil some water. As he waited for the kettle, he avoided Betty’s examining eyes by making busy work of pushing shut all of the cupboard doors that she’d so helpfully opened earlier.

He then went about extracting two mismatched mugs from the dish rack and placed a heaped spoonful of instant coffee into each. Without needing to think about it, he added two spoons of sugar to his and just half a spoonful to hers then followed it with a dash of milk. The sand may have trickled through the hour glass of time for them both, but he was pretty proud of the fact he hadn’t forgotten how she took her beverages. 

He added boiled water to both cups, and then wordlessly pushed one in her direction. She stood and sauntered over to the kitchen island, her face twisted with confusion as she looked down at the mug.

“What’s this?” she frowned, as if she’d never seen a hot drink before.

“Uh…coffee?” Jughead replied slowly, completely unsure of her weird response. “I made you a coffee.”

He desperately hoped that she would take the proffered caffeine as a gesture of good will and drop her sore attitude. He was unsure how they were going to make it through to eight o’clock if she didn’t.

But instead she simply pushed the mug back across the counter top.

“Well obviously I can’t drink coffee now.” she said imperturbably. “It’s early and I’m tired so I’m off to bed for a few hours.”

“What the f –” Jughead muttered mostly under his breath, before raising his voice in her direction. “You stood in this exact kitchen only minutes ago and told me you wanted coffee. Now I’ve made you coffee and you don’t want it. Are you in some way demented?”

Even as he said the words, Jughead didn’t believe them. No, Betty Cooper wasn’t demented. But she was downright recalcitrant and obviously on a determined mission to make mischief, and he wasn’t going to put up with it any longer.

Jughead Jones had never yelled at Betty Cooper before. Not when they were kids, not when they were in school, not when she roped him into covering up the murder of a shady drug dealer, not when he’d gone to jail and not once since his return home. The closest he’d probably ever come was his _I’m weird I’m a weirdo_ rant in Archie Andrew’s garage in their sophomore year.

But in that exact moment, there was nothing Jughead could do to stop himself from finally _finally_ letting her have a piece of his mind. 

“You know what? That’s fine. You go and have a nap.” he shouted, his voice becoming more heightened with each syllable uttered. “Nap the whole day away if you like because that will just make it easier for me to babysit you. But you aren’t sleeping in my bed because you absolutely aren’t allowed in my bedroom. And don’t even think about it Betty because I will fully lose my temper and when that happens you’ll…you’ll…well you’ll just be sorry.”

He ran out of steam and abruptly stopped yelling, just long enough to glean that she was quietly laughing. Laughing. _Actually_ laughing. As if the whole thing was nothing more than a joke.

She was so fucking infuriating and oddly enough it was making him equally enraged and enraptured by her. He wasn’t sure what to even do with himself anymore.

“Chill out. I’m not going to mess up your precious bedroom.” she all but snickered. “Not after it took me so long to arrange it so perfectly.”

Whoomp, there it was. She’d clearly saved that little titbit for the right moment and then dropped it on him like a cartoon piano out of a second story window.

Jughead 1; Betty 2.   

With that, she turned and began walking down the short hallway that led to the apartment’s two bedrooms. Suddenly Jughead wondered if this entire thing was just a ploy to shake him.

“Wait.” he called.

She stopped abruptly and glanced at him over her shoulder.

“Leave your phone and your bike keys on the table.” he said firmly.

This caused her to spin back around, mouth agape in shock and indignation. Well that had certainly wiped the smug look off her face.

“Who exactly do you think you are?” she scoffed. “You’re not the boss of me.”

“No,” he agreed. “But you’re a Serpent on probation, under the protection of a Serpent who is, you know, _not_ on probation. If you want to keep that black leather jacket of yours then I suggest you don’t give me reason to report back to my dad that there was any trouble.”

It had been a bold move to assert such an argument, and he didn’t know how she could possibly worm her way out of it.

Betty stood motionless on the hardwood floor, her blank eyes staring hard at a spot on the wall just to the left of his head. For some reason, Jughead’s own eyes tracked straight down to the hands that hung limply by her side.

She’d been mocking him only moments earlier, and he still didn’t have a clear read on what she was thinking, but he knew very well that he’d just made a strong play to shift the balance of power back in his favor and he didn’t want her…overreacting and hurting herself. Not at his expense.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she wordlessly stepped forward as she simultaneously reached into the back pocket of her shorts to produce her glossy latest model iPhone and silver keys. She deposited them on the table, glowering at him through black lashes, and then headed back down the hall towards FP’s bedroom.

“And leave the bedroom door open, please!” Jughead shouted after her.

She paused momentarily but didn’t look at him again before moving into the bedroom and yanking down the blackout shades, despite the fact the daylight had not long broken and the outside world was still painted in a hue of soft pink. He noticed, however, that she did as he asked and left the door open several inches before she collapsed onto the bed.

Jughead 3; Betty 2, he decided. He was extremely pleased that he’d won ‘round one’ of the day, especially given how quickly she’d pulled the rug out from under him by letting him know she’d decorated his bedroom.

Jughead sighed heavily. He was properly exhausted already. His blue eyes found the clock on the stove and he realized that their heated exchange had only taken a grand total of thirty minutes. There was still miles to go before they reached the Alice Cooper sponsored finish line to their marathon day.

Truthfully he was desperate to crawl into his own bed and catch up on sleep, just like Betty was smart enough to do. But he also worried that she would take advantage of his sleeping state and high tail it outta there quicker than he could say Jack Robinson (not that he _would_ ever say Jack Robinson, because he neither understood that idiom nor knew anybody named Jack…but that was besides the point).

Instead, he tiptoed down the hall and slipped silently into his own bedroom. He sat at his desk chair, switched on his lamp and reached blindly for a book from his shelf to occupy his mind. His brain barely registered that he’d grabbed an Agatha Christie novel as he turned to page one and began to read.

_In the corner of a first-class smoking carriage, Mr Justice Wargrave, lately retired from the bench, puffed at a cigar and ran an interested eye through the political news in The Times._

Jughead shuddered and looked up from the book to glance around the room. She had done this? Really? The posters? The books? The photographs? The bedding? Why would she do so much for someone she hated?

He cleared his throat, shook his head and tried not to think about it. His mind was going to wander to places that either held way too much hope or places that held no hope at all. Both scenarios were dangerous. He knew his best bet was just to get on with reading, so he started again at the top of the page.

But just seconds Jughead’s eyes were once again on the photographs in the simple yet ornate frames that lined the top of his book shelf. It honestly would have taken her ages to track down some of those photos because apart from the snap of him and Jelly at the drive-in he’d certainly never seen any of them in his dad’s old trailer. Why would she have even bothered? He shook his head again and looked down. All he had to do was concentrate on the words in front of him and get lost in the story.

_In the corner of a first-class smoking carriage, Mr Justice Wargrave…._

_Mr Justice Wargrave._

_In the corner of a first-class smoking carriage, Mr Justice Wargrave, lately re…_

_Wargrave._

Jughead growled and slammed the book shut. His mind was too jumbled to even follow the sentences on the page in a linear fashion. He tossed the novel gently across the room and it landed with a soft thud on his bed.

He craned his head back, his arms reaching up towards the ceiling until his left shoulder popped audibly and released some tension in his neck. Then he sat still for just a moment, his eyes firmly shut, as he concentrated on his breathing and trying to calm his racing thoughts.

And that was when he heard the sniffling.

At first he thought perhaps Betty had allergies. He reasoned that his father’s bedroom wasn’t exactly spotless clean and probably full of dust. But then when he heard it a second time, he knew it was the unmistakable sound of someone crying.

No, not someone crying. _Betty_ crying.

Jughead instantly felt like a total prick. Sure, he’d deliberately provoked her in the kitchen. But he’d only been giving as good as she was serving to him and he really hadn’t meant to push her so far that she cried.

He felt completely helpless, because he knew there was no possible way she wanted him in that room or the comfort he could try to provide her. So he sat with his head in his hands and listened intently for any sign that she needed assistance.

Eventually, after a few painstakingly slow minutes, the sobbing abated and the apartment fell into veritable silence once more. 

He reached back into the book shelf and this time his fingers grasped an old dog-eared copy of a Charles Dickens literary classic. For a moment he was confused about why he owned such a novel, then vaguely remembered it being on the reading list in freshman year back at Riverdale High. 

The muscles constricted in his chest when he also recalled that his family hadn't exactly managed to scrounge the money to purchase his books that year, and despite the fact he and Betty had been in that awkward phase of their lives where they were less friends and more acquaintences linked through Archie, she had unquestioningly gifted him her spare copy of David Copperfield. 

This time when he opened the book and began to read, he did so with precision focus. 

"Chapter one. I am born." he muttered under his breath as his meticulously eyes scanned the lines on the page. 

He had just reached the commencement of _Chapter ten - I  become neglected and am provided for_ (which he decided was also an aptly fitting way to describe the turbulent years of his life) when he thought he heard someone call his name. He stopped reading and glanced up, but was met by nothing but the morning stillness of the apartment. His eyes had just returned to David Copperfield when he heard it again. Unmistakable this time. Betty was softly and forlornly calling out to him. 

Jughead immediately stood and rushed across the hall, but when he peered through the half cracked door into the mostly darkened room he could clearly see Betty's silhouette on the bed. She was quite obviously still asleep, but fitfully tossing and turning. 

"Juggie." she sobbed, abruptly flipping from her back to her stomach as her arms shot out from against her sides. "Juggie." 

Jughead was completely floored by what he was witnessing. He could only rationalize that spending time confined in such close quarters with him was messing with her brain chemistry, because in the months since his return he'd never seen any indication that she even thought about him, let alone cried his name in her sleep. 

"Juggie." she cried again, throwing herself onto her back once more as her arms flailed like windmills. 

Not knowing what else to do, and hating to see her in such a state, Jughead crept into the room and crouched beside the edge of the mattress. He then reached out a tentative hand and placed his cool palm flat against her flushed forehead. 

"It's okay, Betts." he murmured soothingly. "I'm here. It's okay." 

He couldn’t think about what he was doing. About the fact he was touching her properly for the first time in four years. He just needed to make sure she was okay.

She seemed to settle quite rapidly after that, and he really wasn't sure if it was his presence that had calmed her or if it was just a coincidence that her nightmare was drawing to its natural conclusion. Nonetheless, he remained with his hand on her face for a good ten minutes after she'd quietened down before slipping carefully from his father's bedroom. 

Knowing he had lost his focus to read, he wandered into the living room and flopped onto the couch before switching on the television. He toggled mindlessly between the channels until he found a black and white Hitchcock thriller and then sank further into the white leather of the seat to watch it in comfort, but his confused mind was still very much back in the bedroom with Betty. He was exhausted and he didn't know how to begin processing his wildly oscillating emotions. 

Some time later, he blinked and realized that the midday sun was streaming through the open windows. He sat up a little (not even sure when he laid down in the first place) and rubbed at the sleep that had accumulated in the corners of his eyes. It took a few more moments for his groggy brain to understand that he'd fallen asleep, and clearly slumbered for a few solid hours. He rolled over to face the TV and noticed that he'd bumped the remote control during his unplanned nap, as instead of classic films he was staring at some kind of sport. He dragged himself fully to a seated position and narrowed his eyes at the screen, quickly gleaning that he was watching two teams he didn't know or care about play a game of baseball. 

A noise in the back of the apartment alerted him to the fact that Betty was also awake and he scrubbed hastily at his face to try and remove all traces of evidence that he'd fallen asleep during his watch dog duties. 

Betty padded into the room moments later, still wearing the cotton socks on her feet, and approached him rather timidly. He wasn't sure if she was aware that she'd been calling his name while she slept. Perhaps it was the nightmare that had caused her to suddenly be cautious, or maybe she suspected he had overheard her crying. Either way, it was a different almost sheepish Betty Cooper that emerged from FP's bedroom. 

"Uh, hi." she said softly. "Mind if I sit?" 

"Sure." Jughead affirmed, scooting a little to the side despite there already being plenty of room on the oversized couch. "I was just contemplating ordering a pizza for lunch. You keen for that?"

"Sure." she parroted back, avoiding eye contact as she tucked herself next to the opposite arm of the sofa. "No olives though." 

"Don't worry I remember your order." he smirked, picking up his phone and punching in the number of the local pizza place. 

He ordered quickly (a large sausage and peperoni with extra cheese for him and a small veggie - no olives -  on thin crust for her) and when he hung up the phone he noticed that she was intently staring at the TV. 

They watched in uncomfortable silence for several minutes. 

"I didn't know you liked baseball." she remarked suddenly, causing Jughead to jump half out of his skin. 

He panicked momentarily, not wanting her to know that he'd only turned to ESPN when he'd laid on the remote in his sleep. His brain scrambled for a plausible explanation. 

"Um, yeah." he shrugged casually. "Not a lot of viewing choice in prison so I kind of got used to watching sports." 

Straight away he knew he'd said the wrong thing because her change in demeanor was instant - her shoulders dropped, her chin flicked defiantly upward and her face turned hard and expressionless. He recognized way too late that his incarceration was clearly still a sore topic for her (and of course it was - he'd gone to prison _for her_ and then cut her from his life like she was nothing more than a cancerous sun spot). 

"I, uh...we can change it if you don't want to watch." he blurted out, trying to salvage a situation that he feared was unsalvageable. 

"No this is fine." she snapped sharply. "Which is your team? Just so I can make sure to root for the other one." 

Yep. Unsalvageable. 

Knowing all he could do at that point was attempt to save face, he squinted to try and decipher on the fly which two teams were actually playing. The telecast was a replay of a night game and under the stadium's bright lights it was kind of hard to tell. 

He wanted to blurt out that he supported the red and white team, but unfortunately it appeared as if both the damn teams were mostly wearing red and white. How the hell was anyone supposed to follow these nonsense sports if nobody could even tell the teams apart? 

Thankfully at that moment there was a bang on the downstairs door and Jughead was ostensibly saved by the pizza delivery boy. 

They returned to that same uncomfortable silence to eat. Jughead finished his entire pizza in one fell swoop, whereas Betty ate just one slice of hers then sat staring coldly at the other portions.

After lunch was cleared away, they _unfortunately_ resumed their baseball viewing. Jughead truly wasn’t sure if she was persisting with the sport thing purely because he told her he’d taken a liking to it in jail or if she knew he was faking it and calling his bluff just to torture him.

The game (which he eventually figured out was between the Cardinals and the Phillies) mercifully ended but was then unmercifully followed by a _second_ game of freakin’ baseball. Jughead at least recognized the Yankees as one of the competing teams in this game so he tried terribly hard to feign interest.

Exactly sixty-three minutes into the game (which Jughead knew with precision because he was _definitely_ counting – why did anybody even need baseball games to be so lengthy?) his phone buzzed on the coffee table to denote an incoming text and he reached over to collect it.

_[4.14pm] Archie Andrews: My brother from another mother...come over!_

Jughead chuckled lightly and rolled his eyes as his phone immediately pinged a second time.

_[4.15pm] Archie Andrews: Baseball is on. Yankees v Red Sox. Come over!_

At that Jughead shuddered. He’d surely dug his own grave when it came to the baseball he was currently being forced to watch, but even Archie couldn’t be so clueless as to think he of all people would travel all the way to the North Side to partake in the optional viewing of sport.

 _[4.16pm] Archie Andrews:_   _There’s someone here I’d really like you to meet._

_[4.16pm] Archie Andrews: Her name is honey smoked chicken wings with a delicious side of ranch._

At that Jughead laughed out loud and swiped open his phone to tap out a quick response.

_[4.17pm] Jughead Jones: Thanks for the offer man but I’ll take a raincheck okay?_

The response came moments later. It was a photo message and when Jughead clicked to open it he was greeted with Archie’s goofy face - leaning over a huge mound of chicken wings and grinning like an idiot. The caption was a simple “you sure about that?” and it made Jughead laugh again.

“Are you seriously going to do this right in front of me?” Betty snapped.

Jughead was so startled by her outburst that he dropped the phone into his lap and scrambled to pick it up again.

“I mean do you need me to clear out for the rest of the afternoon?” she continued, throwing him a dirty look.

“Um…no?” Jughead started slowly, genuinely baffled. “If I let you leave that will probably make Dad pretty pissed off.”

“Well you sitting literally right next to me and text flirting with that stupid bitch is making _me_ pretty pissed off.” she shot back.

Wait. What?

Jughead turned to look at her fully, his brows furrowed in intense confusion. “Cooper what are you talking about?”

“Can’t you at least wait until my mom comes to collect me before arranging a fun little fuck date with Charity?” she spat, her words seeped with vitriol. “I don’t want to be here when she arrives.”

Waiittttt. What?

Jughead’s mind immediately flashed back to the fourth of July cookout. The only Charity he knew (other than like…Doctors Without Borders and the Red Cross) was the insanely forward Southside girl he’d met in the park that day. Had Betty stormed off with Fangs and Sweet Pea before or after he’d been approached by her? He was so frazzled he couldn’t quite remember.

“I just hope you’re using protection because there are a _lot_ of guys who’ve been around that block and she’s probably diseased.”

And then it hit Jughead like a truck. It couldn’t have been clearer. In fact, for the first time all day he was reading Betty’s emotions with absolute clarity.

It was jealousy. She was jealous.

Was that why she’d left the party that day? Had she thought he was returning Charity’s flirtations and been upset by it? Was that what had caused her to become hostile towards him again after things had finally settled down? No. There was no possibility. There was simply no way.

But here he was staring irrefutable proof right in the face. She was seething with anger right in front of him because she mistakenly thought the somewhat loveable ginger clown texting him from Elm Street was some underdressed oversexed local girl.

For a moment he strongly considered leading her on and making her think that he really did have a thing going with whats-her-face. He loved the sudden feeling of excitement and the way his whole body was warm and fuzzy. The day had certainly taken a full tilt spin into Crazy Town.

But then he remembered her softly sobbing in the bedroom when she thought he couldn’t hear her, and the way she’d called his name in her sleep, and decided he couldn’t be the reason she felt any type of discomfort or distress.

“I’m not sleeping with Charity.” he said, his voice quiet and somber. “She propositioned me at the fourth of July shindig but I turned her down.”

Betty’s anger melted like winter snow on the first day of spring. Instead, she sat staring at him with her mouth slightly agape.

“But, why not?” she finally managed to gasp. “You’ve been gone for so long. It can’t have been easy for you. So why would you turn down guaranteed sex?”

He gave her a very serious but very pointed look.

“You know why, Betts.” was all he said.

Suddenly feeling like maybe he should be embarrassed by his own words and her lack of response, he turned back to the television and flicked the channel over to HBO. Nonetheless, he could feel her eyes on him and her attention fixed firmly on the side of his face.

The hostility was completely vanquished from her attitude from that point onward, but she became annoyingly fidgety and kept nervously biting her lip. He really wanted to just ask her what she was thinking, but he felt like he’d aptly left the proverbial ball in her court and needed to give her space to process his words.

They were halfway through an episode of Westworld (which Jughead was completely unable to follow, but anything was better than more sport) when she suddenly reached out to grab his arm. He inhaled sharply and looked over at her.

“I think I’m going to take a bath.” she said feebly, by way of explanation. “Is that okay?”

“Sure.” he replied, trying to keep his voice measured. “I’ll go and grab you a towel.”

When he stood from the couch she quickly followed, that hand never leaving his bicep. As he tried to move past her to fetch the towel he’d promised, she tightened her grip and halted his stride.

“I…Jughead…” she stumbled anxiously.

“What is it?” he asked softly, dipping his head to look at her intently.

It had literally been years since they’d been in such close proximity. He could smell her sweet scent, feel her warmth, look deeply into her eyes. She was someone he could easily get lost in, without a moment’s notice.

“I just wanted to say I’m glad you’re home, Jug.” she whispered.

And then without warning she threw herself into his arms, her hands snaking lowly around his waist and gripping him tightly. He was in such shock it took him a few seconds to respond before he brought his own hands up to hug her back.

Home. He was home.

Just as quickly as the hug commenced, Betty withdrew from him. She smiled a little sheepishly then ducked under his arm and disappeared down the hall.

Soon after, Jughead heard the unmistakable sound of the tub filling with water and he relaxed into the soft leather of the couch with Betty’s fingertips still ghosting over his skin.

He hoped a nice, long soak in a warm bath would help Betty clear her head. She had swung wildly from angry to bitter to sad and then to maybe even sort-of nice in the space of a single day. She was sure to be exhausted.

He was definitely exhausted. 

Alice Cooper swanned into the apartment at 7.43pm, greeting him not with hello but rather with a loud declaration that she was seventeen minutes early. Arrogance was a trait only she could turn into an endearing quality. 

For lack of anything else to do, Jughead rose from the sofa and moved to join her in the kitchen. She had the fridge open and was depositing food inside. What was with these women going into his refrigerator uninvited?

"Have you eaten? I stopped off at the market on the way here. I thought I'd make us all a nice chicken salad for dinner." she said over her shoulder, her eyes only very briefly falling in his direction. 

She closed the fridge and turned to restock the weird black bowl on the kitchen counter that was unexplainably always full of fruit. Ah - so _that's_ how apples kept appearing there. Everything about the Jones fruit bowl suddenly made so much sense. Because it wasn’t a Jones fruit bowl, it was a Cooper fruit bowl.

"No we haven't eaten." he replied. "Chicken salad would be good, thanks you Mrs Cooper."

"Oh God, Jughead. I'm a Smith again now." she said, looking horrified. "The new Mrs Cooper is that sow-eared chlamydia infested strumpet from Thornhill. Please just call me Ally - everyone does."

Jughead managed to choke on his own saliva before Alice had even finished speaking. He strongly suspected he would never stop being shocked by the words that flowed so easily from her mouth. 

"Where's Elizabeth?" she frowned, suddenly noticing the quietness of the apartment. 

"Oh she's taking a bath." Jughead explained. "It's been a bit of a tough day for us here so it's probably good she's getting some space." 

"A tough day?" Alice smirked. "I must say I'm mildly impressed that things appear so low-key around here. I honestly expected to find the pair of you had been busy with either bloodshed or impregnation, with a high probability of both." 

 _Again_ Jughead choked on his own saliva. Before he could even muster a response, Alice's heels were clicking down the hallway as she approached the bathroom door. He languidly tagged along a few paces behind her. 

"Betty, darling. I've arrived." she called, rapping her knuckles lightly on the wood. "Will you finish up in there please? You can help me start on dinner." 

When Alice was met with complete silence, she turned to glance apprehensively at Jughead. He mirrored her expression, and then looked past her at the closed door. They could both sense a complete lack of movement on the other side. 

"Elizabeth." Alice started again, her voice much firmer and more insistent. "What are you doing in there?" 

More silence. More stillness. 

Alice furiously jiggled at the door handle but found it to be locked. 

"How long has she been in the bathroom?" Alice demanded. 

"Uh...a while." Jughead admitted, the nervousness that had begun in the pit of his stomach seeping throughout his whole body. "Maybe a couple of hours." 

"And you didn't think to check on her?" Alice all but shrieked, before banging irately on the door. "Elizabeth Cooper answer me! Answer me now!"

Without even thinking, Jughead's hand shot out to push Alice aside. Images of Betty dead in the bath tub filtered wildly through his mind and he needed desperately to check on her welfare.

As soon as Alice was suitably sidelined, he drew back and then kicked the door as hard as he could muster. The wood splintered easily, and the lock gave way. Alice was there again immediately to throw the door all the way open and they both gasped in horror at what they saw. 

The bath was full to the brim with water, but the room was entirely empty and the window entirely open.

Betty was gone. 

Alice rushed into the room and stuck her head out the window, but there was absolutely no sight of her daughter. The only explanation was that she’d shimmied down the drain pipe and made a getaway.

"Oh no. Oh shit." Jughead spluttered, completely in shock. "Oh no oh no oh no."

How had this possibly happened? He’d been so damn vigilant.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I thought she was in here. I thought I was guarding her. I'm so sorry. What have I done? I'm so sorry." he garbled, his head in his hands. 

But Alice was calm and stoic, despite her obvious concern. She had always been a cool cucumber when it came to panic situations. 

"It's not your fault, Jughead." she insisted. "Betty has been doing this for years. She slips away right under our noses. She's done it to the best of us. Me, your father, the boys, _everyone._ But this time it's serious. This time she might be in real trouble." 

Alice rushed past him back into the living area and grabbed her purse off the table to look for her phone. That's when Jughead spotted Betty's phone and keys right where he left them. He snatched them up triumphantly and waved them in her face. 

"She can't have gotten too far. I made her leave her stuff right here. She has no bike." he declared excitedly. 

Alice was frantically typing into her phone and she offered him nothing more than a cursory glance. 

"Where did she go? Tell me." he continued. "I'll go after her on my bike." 

Alice held the phone to her ear and Jughead could hear her trying to place a call. The ringing went unanswered and moments later he heard his father's voicemail greeting commence. Alice growled and swiped to end the call before the beep. 

"It's no good trying to reach my dad." Jughead said, desperate to draw her attention. "He's a solid day's ride away. You have to tell me what's going on, Alice. You have to tell me because I'm the only one here right now who can help you bring Betty back. I'll go find her. I've got my bike."

He reached into his back pocket to fetch his keys, as if to further prove his point. But his fingers clutched at nothing except the denim that made up the inside of his jeans. 

"Uh..." he muttered anxiously. 

He checked his other pockets, then patted down his shirt but still came up empty handed. 

"My keys are gone." he admitted quietly. "But how..."

Suddenly his mind was transported back to the moment Betty had unexpectedly thrown herself into his arms. He'd gone high with his hands - wrapped them around her shoulders. Because she'd gone low with her hands.

She'd gone low with her hands. 

Oh. Fuck.

"She honeypotted me!" he cried. "She tricked me! She didn't want to hug me she just wanted to steal my bike! Betty has my bike!"

Alice's eyes widened as she watched him unravel mentally right in front of her, and then she reached out to place her steady hands atop his shoulders. 

"Take a breath, Jughead." she ordered. "Let's sit down. I think we need to talk." 

“Sit down?” he gasped. “How could you sit down at a time like this? Just tell me everything and tell me right now.”

Alice sighed but determinedly pulled out a chair and sat. Jughead remained standing, looming over her, desperately awaiting answers.

“When you first went to jail Betty was very…emotional.” she began, clasping her fingers on the tabletop. “She and Veronica started investigating the SoDa – ”

“I know all that!” Jughead cut in hurriedly. “I know about the SoDale project.”

Alice seemed shocked to hear it, but regrouped quickly and opened her mouth to speak again.

“After SoDale collapsed that sinister Mafioso swine Hiram Lodge and his oxygen thief wife were shipped off to jail, but they stooped so low as to take out a – ”

“A hit on Betty. So that’s why she became a Serpent.” Jughead interrupted again, beginning to pace the floor of the living room. “I know that too.”

This time Alice looked seriously disturbed. Clearly Polly had been extremely tight-lipped about the things she’d told him back in May.

“Well do you know about the jail visits?”

Jughead abruptly stopped pacing. “Jail visits?”

Alice seemed satisfied that she had reached the point in Betty’s life history where Jughead was no longer in-the-know, and so she back peddled a little to explain herself more fully.

"We thought Betty would settle in the Serpents. You refused to see her, but we thought perhaps being near the gang would allow her to feel close enough to you that she could continue on with her life.” Alice said. “Then Tarzan ended up at Shankshaw and of course Betty seized the opportunity to regularly visit him.”

“What?” Jughead gasped. “Betty was visiting Tarzan? He never said anything…”

“Perhaps not to you, but he said a lot to her.” Alice scowled. “He became her little spy – reporting back on how you were doing in prison…”

“ _What_?” Jughead cried.  

“…and unfortunately he let slip to her that you were being roughed up by some of the other inmates. So Betty being Betty, she decided to secretly do something about it.”

“Oh God what did she do?” Jughead asked, the color starting to drain from his face.

“She’s a good little investigator, my Elizabeth.” Alice sighed, though Jughead could see a hint of pride. “She managed to track down a rather ruthless individual by the name of Jon-Jon.”

Suddenly Jughead was overcome by the undeniable urge to sit. He dropped onto a seat opposite Alice just before his legs could give way from underneath him.

“Jon-Jon was about to enter Shankshaw and was gunning to be the king of the inmates. So she asked him to protect you and keep you safe. He agreed, on the condition that she did a favor for him.”

“No.” Jughead breathed. “No no no no no.”

He knew exactly what it was like to do favors for those types of people. A favor was never just a favor. He could still remember becoming entangled with the snake charmer when he’d tried to help his dad out. Being indebted to a mobster like Jon-Jon was undoubtedly far worse than owing something to a small-time trashy bitch like Penny.

“So she started moving drugs for him.” Alice went on. “Just small amounts of entry-level drugs like cannabis. When we found out of course we went ballistic, but to be honest FP and I weren’t entirely quick to put a stop to things.”

“Why the hell not?” he exhaled.

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Because it was keeping you safe, Jughead!” Alice snapped, momentarily losing her temper for the first time since the conversation started. “I was feeling terribly guilty about what happened to you and naturally your father didn’t want to see you hurt in prison. So we stupidly thought it was a win-win situation – Betty could feel like she was making a difference in your life and you were being protected.”

 _Protected._ Jughead felt like he’d been physically slapped. He felt so unbelievably stupid for spending his entire incarceration truly thinking he had somehow won Jon-Jon’s respect. That he had earned his right to a quiet, simple life behind bars. When the truth was, Betty was outside _transporting weed_ for the feared head of an organized crime gang just so he could eat his maggoty bologna in peace.  

“After a while, things started escalating. The marijuana became jingle jangle and the deliveries became monthly.” she continued. “At that point we tried so hard but she was in so deep.”

“You tried? Why didn’t you just send her away?” Jughead demanded, trying and failing to keep his voice from cracking under the thick emotion. “Why didn’t you send her to Canada to live with Mr Cooper?”

“We couldn’t without risking you!” Alice cried, tears pricking at her eyes. “FP and I were forced to walk a constant tightrope with both your life _and_ Betty’s life hanging in the balance.”

Jughead realized then that they were both crying. It was a heartbreaking situation, but he understood how they’d ended up where they were. If Betty had been sent to Nova Scotia or even locked up at the Sisters of Quiet Mercy, there was a significant possibility Jon-Jon would have maimed or murdered him as retribution for her reneging on her deal. Whilst Jughead would have much preferred that outcome, he knew his father would never have allowed it.

“We hoped when you made parole things would stop spiralling out of control.” Alice sobbed. “But for reasons I can’t even explain the drug running actually _escalated_ when you came home. Betty started delivering harder drugs way too close to Ghoulies territory, and as you can imagine the Ghoulies weren’t very receptive to that.

Well that certainly explained why Malachai had stormed the Wyrm earlier in the year looking for Betty’s blood. But it definitely didn’t explain anything else.

“We’ve tried to put a tight leash on her these past few months but she keeps running off to do Jon-Jon’s bidding.” Alice had begun ugly crying and she reached out to clasp his hand in her own. “Jughead I think my little baby is going to get herself killed soon.”

“But I don’t understand why.” Jughead insisted. “Betty hasn’t made a secret of the fact she hates me. She told me right to my face! So why would she still be doing this?”

“Well the day you came home you yelled at her, Jughead. She – ”

“Are you trying to tell me she’s been treating me like a hostile enemy for _four_ months because I reacted badly to the fact she’d joined a motorcycle gang?” he interrupted her furiously.

Without warning Alice retracted her hand from his, made a fist and slammed it ferociously down on the table.

“It’s a front, Jughead!” she shouted, raising to her feet. “Don’t you get it? It’s a God damn front! How could she possibly be friends with you or _more_ than friends with you whilst also concealing the fact she’s _running drugs_ to keep you safe? Do you think you would have let her carry on doing it once you knew the truth? She knows you wouldn’t have! So she pushed you away for your own good!”

For the briefest of moments Jughead was sure the world tilted on its axis before righting itself with a dizzying bang. Almost immediately his brain started mentally cataloguing his observances of Betty over the past months, but viewing them all through a brand new lens.

He started with the guarded looks, the jealousy and her over-the-top nastiness that was otherwise superbly out of character. Then he considered Fangs weird behaviour at the Fouth party as he’d tried to push Betty towards him before she screamed and ran away.

But the memory that rushed to the forefront of his mind was the night Toni had dragged Betty into the Whyte Wyrm acting like she’d done something terribly wrong, and the words Jughead overheard shouted in the back office between Betty and his father.

_I love him! Nothing else matters._

_I know you do kid, but this has got to stop._

_I’m a big girl and I make my own decisions. You should know better than most people what it feels like to need to protect the people you love._

Jughead couldn’t breathe. He truly couldn’t fill his lungs with oxygen and he felt like he was choking or drowning or something of that dramatic ilk. He felt like he had survived prison but he might not survive the whirlwind of insanity that was Betty Cooper. Was _he_ the one that she’d been talking about that night?

Did she…still love him?

He finally sucked in that much needed air and then stood to meet Alice’s eyes.

“When you were working as a journalist at The Register did you have a contact that helped you to access, uh, somewhat less than legal information online?” he asked unsurely.

“A hacker?” Alice scoffed. “Of course. What kind of half baked investigator do you take me for? I have a guy. Lives nearby here, actually.”

“Good.” Jughead said, grabbing Betty’s keys and phone off the table and slipping into his Serpents jacket. “We need to go there. Right now. We need to access some information from my parole officer.”

“Jughead I know you mean well but we need to find Betty immediately before she does anything stupid.” Alice argued. “My guy’s not exactly Kevin Mitnick. It will probably take him a week to crack the security on the state department website.”

But Jughead was already putting on his shoes and heading out the door.

“He doesn’t need to get into the state department’s site, he just needs to get into the computer of my dodgy parole officer. The guy put a GPS tracking device on my bike.”

Alice gasped and a hand flew to her mouth. “And Betty has your bike..."

“Exactly.” Jughead smirked, taking the stairs two at a time. “So let’s go get our girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for reading! Sorry for forcing you through almost 10 thousand words of Betty and Jughead alone in an apartment and not giving away a single kiss. But Betty and Jughead just might get some fireworks in the next couple of chapters....
> 
> (also apologies for any errors in this chapter or sloppy writing. I am running off just a few hours sleep today so my brain is pretty mush...)


	11. Blood and Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Listen to me, Betts." he started anxiously, the police sirens getting louder by the second. "I don't know if you can hear me or not but you need to get up and move. The cops are almost here. What do you think is going to happen to me if I'm found at this kind of crime scene? I don't want to go back to jail Betty. Please get up."
> 
> She just lay there, unmoving. Breathing shallow. One hand thrown across her face.
> 
> There was so much blood. It was something out of his worst nightmare. He wasn't sure where or how she was injured, and if she could even hear him or not. He needed to get her to a hospital. He also really needed to get out of there before it was too late for him. But there was no possibility he was leaving her behind.
> 
> "Please, baby. Get up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To every single person who left comments or kudos on my last chapter - THANK YOU! I really can't thank you enough. As I've mentioned before this is my first time attempting this writing thing so it means a lot that some of you like my work.

The sun had long since sunk beneath the skyline by the time Alice's hacker (who more closely resembled The Simpsons Comic Book Guy than any kind of legitimate computer whiz) managed to bypass the firewall of Riverdale's best and most corrupt parole officer and another forty minutes after that to actually crack the GPS tracker that gave them the coordinates to Jughead's bike.

Alice, a seasoned veteran when it came to Betty's escapades, sat quietly on a swivel office chair at the back of the basement that apparently doubled as a top-secret hacker HQ and picked at her perfectly manicured fingernails.

Jughead, new to everything and nervous and sick and panicked and half out of his mind, paced restlessly on the dank concrete floor and tried to consciously force himself to breathe.

Every passing minute felt like an hour or a day or maybe even a lifetime.

Every shift of the second hand on the old analog clock mounted upon the wall between the washing machine and the rusty fridge took him another moment further away from Betty and a moment closer to not being able to get to her in time or keep her safe.

"I've got it." Fat Hacker suddenly announced, his slimy voice echoing in the uncomfortable silence. "She's stationary. The warehouse district in Greendale."

Jughead rushed to the desk and peered over the guy's shoulder, making a mental note of his bike's exact location on the map.

"I know where that is." he confirmed grimly, his mind flooded with the memory of that one ill-fated 'favor' he'd done for Penny Peabody back in the day.

Alice sprung out of her chair, her car keys jingling in her hand. "Let's go."

"No." Jughead shook his head and halted her in place. "Stay here. It will be quicker and easier for me to get in, get Betty and get out again if I take a bike. Besides, I need your eyes on this screen in case Betty goes on the move again."

Alice seemed to mull the point over before nodding in acquiescence. She reached into her purse and produced her cell phone before offering it to him. He hesitated and looked up at her, confused.

"I heard you muttering about both your bike and phone being tracked. Take mine." she said, by way of explanation. "Find her Jughead. Please."

"I will." Jughead said, tucking the phone into his back pocket and handing over his own. "I'll call you when it's over."

Without further fanfare, he grabbed his helmet and the keys to Betty's bike and took off into the night.

He was half way to Greendale, his blood pumping frantically in his veins as the adrenalin coursed through him, when it first occurred to him exactly just how fast and powerful the motorcycle he was riding actually was.

Sure he'd admired Betty's bike once or twice from afar but it wasn't until earlier that evening when he'd first driven the slick black machine to the hacker's house that he'd looked properly and realized she was low-key getting around the quiet streets of the 'Dales on a modified Ducati NCR M16.

He made a mental note to find her, make sure she was safe and then ask her how exactly she'd come to acquire a vehicle worth as much as a mid-range suburban house in Rockland County.

With the added horse power of the M16, he reached the industrial area at the back of Greendale in record time. He had no trouble locating his own bike, as it was exactly where the hacker had predicted. What he hadn't anticipated was for the bike to be abandoned and knocked on it's side with the headlight still glaring into the untouched darkness.

Jughead parked alongside it and shut off his purring motor so that he could listen for any signs of Betty nearby. His natural instinct was to call out her name, but a sickening dread that had settled at the bottom of his stomach prevented him from opening his mouth and giving away his presence.

He was just about to draw Alice's phone from his pocket and call her seeking further assistance when he heard the unmistakable pop of a gunshot. It bounced off the walls of the nearby warehouses to sound like someone had let off a bunch of fireworks, which made it hard to pinpoint the exact origin.

Thinking quickly, Jughead walked Betty's bike a few steps back and then dropped the kickstand once it was effectively concealed behind an overgrown thicket of bush. He then hoisted his own off the ground and clambered aboard. He wanted to get to Betty as quickly as possible but he also knew if he left his bike in a suspicious location overnight it would undoubtedly draw the attention of Barry Caldwell, Parole Officer Extraordinaire.

The throttle brought the vehicle to life and he took off ducking and dodging through the rows of dark, imposing warehouses. It didn't take him long to spot the only warehouse in the lot with the large doors ajar and bright light spilling out onto the road.

What Jughead had honestly expected was to swoop in, extricate Betty from a shady drug delivery, maybe fight off a thug or two and then disappear into the night like a superpowered stealth ninja.

But the scene in front of him was more shocking and grotesque than anything he could ever have predicted.

Dozens of men were scrambling, fighting, slashing and burning. It was like a scene out of a Tarantino film - one that would undoubtedly switch to black and white so that the gratuitous violence didn't have to be watered down for the sake of the MPAA rating system.

But this wasn't Tarantino. It was real life in full, brutal Technicolor. And there was some kind of all-in gang fight taking place right before his eyes.

Jughead was accustomed to violence, having spent too much of his youth behind the thick bars of Shankshaw State Penitentiary. But this wasn't homemade shivs and fisticuffs, it was switch blades and guns- and nobody was holding back. Several dead bodies already littered the dark alley behind the warehouse.

The Ghoulies were definitely involved because Jughead could spot their lame fashionista studded jackets a mile away. The rival gang were dressed much more smartly in black dinner suits (which Jughead thought was an entirely inappropriate uniform to wear to any kind of brawl) with red roses pinned to their lapels. Something hazy filtered through Jughead's memory about Jon-Jon's calling card being a red rose left at the scene of every crime he committed.

Well. Fucking great.

Jughead dropped the kick stand of the bike and swung his leg up and over the seat as his eyes frantically scanned the vicinity for any sign of long blonde hair. In all the fray, his Betty radar was malfunctioning because he couldn't feel her out. That alone had him terrified.

He heard a scream that was decidedly female and his eyes focused on a scuffle just inside the large metal warehouse door. Betty was tussling with a brawny looking Ghoulie, both clutching desperately at a large backpack.

Betty momentarily let go of the bag, just long enough to slam him with that right hook Fangs and Sweet Pea had perfected. The Ghoulie reeled back in surprise, before lunging forward again, this time with his switch blade outstretched and ready for action.

The pair went tumbling to the ground, still angrily wrestling, and he heard Betty scream again.

This time, Jughead couldn't stop himself from calling out to her in desperation.

"Betty!"

He set off at a run, but the bullets from a semi-automatic sprayed unexpectedly across the alley and forced him haphazardly to the ground. His hands robotically moved to the back of his head in a futile attempt to protect his skull.

Seconds later, he rose again. But when he was back on his feet he looked across at the doorway and noticed someone deliberately blocking his path.

His eyes locked darkly on those of Malachai.

The leader of the Ghoulies openly snarled at him, though delight sparkled in his eyes. Jughead realized immediately that Malachai was planning to use his unexpected arrival as an opportune moment to extract revenge for the last time they'd encountered one another. Jughead had won that round, but this time he was without weapon whilst Malachai brandished what looked to be a freakin' machete.

Just as Malachai began laughing manically and rushing toward him like the depraved lunatic that he truly was, the sound of nearby sirens reverberated through the industrial precinct.

Every living soul involved in the battle stopped, ears pricked and clearly on edge, almost like a pack of wild animals reacting on instinct alone.

Then immediately they all began to scatter - staggering blindly into the alleyway and beyond, effectively allowing the darkness to swallow them whole and preserve them from an uninvited rendezvous with the boys in blue.

Jon-Jon's mobsters seemed to move en masse, circling each other and dragging their injured or dead along with them. In stark contrast, the Ghoulies dissipated with reckless abandon and left their dead...well, for dead.

Malachai continued to eye Jughead dangerously, and even made a move towards him, before a few of his minions stepped in and physically hauled him towards the relative safety of the shadows.

With the threat of violence gone, Jughead was clear to finally reach Betty. She was still on the ground, hidden almost completely beneath the body of the large Ghoulie that had tackled her to the ground. They were both unnervingly still and for a moment Jughead, with his heart in his throat, feared she was dead.

"No." he sobbed, dropping to his knees beside them. "No, Betty."

He heaved the Ghoulie and the burly thug gave no resistance as his body rolled to the side, landing face upward so that Jughead could glean the gangster's cold, unseeing eyes. Dead.

Jughead immediately looked back down at Betty, whose eyes were also open and fixed. Her white cotton tee and denim cut-off shorts were absolutely soaked through with thick, red blood and for a sickening moment Jughead feared he had lost her. But to his relief he saw her jaw twitching and then both her hands came up to suddenly grab his jacket and shove him away.

She sat up then, breathing raggedly and swinging her fists wildly in his direction as she continued to fight for her life.

"Betty, stop." Jughead shouted, placing his hands on her shoulders and holding her at arms length. "Betty. Betts, it's me. It's Jughead."

She withdrew her punches, but her eyes saw straight through him as she continued to take sharp, short breaths. He stood and went to grab her bicep to haul her to her feet, but she resisted and threw him off with unmitigated strength then curled into a ball on the floor.

"Listen to me, Betts." he started anxiously, the police sirens getting louder by the second. "I don't know if you can hear me or not but you need to get up and move. The cops are almost here. What do you think is going to happen to me if I'm found at this kind of crime scene? I don't want to go back to jail Betty. Please get up."

She just lay there, unmoving. Breathing shallow. One hand thrown across her face and the other gripping the backpack she'd been fighting for.

There was so much blood. It was something out of his worst nightmare. He wasn't sure where or how she was injured, and if she could even hear him or not. He needed to get her to a hospital. He also really needed to get out of there before it was too late for him. But there was no possibility he was leaving her behind.

"Please, baby. Get up." he begged, his voice breaking with an almost painful sob.

Something seemed to snap in her then, as she peeled her bloody fingers away from her eyes to peer up at him. When she spoke her voice was barely audible.

"Jug?"

"Betts we need to go. Now."

This time when he reached down to lock his hand around her she didn't resist him. He dragged her first to her feet and then scooped her up into his arms, slinging the backpack over his left shoulder.

He stepped over bodies as he hustled back to the bike, gingerly placing Betty on the rear of the seat with the bag secured on her back before taking his place in front of her. He was momentarily concerned that she was either incapable or unwilling to keep herself upright once they were in motion, but her arms seemed to automatically snake around his waist and grip him tightly.

He peeled out of the alley only a hair's breadth before red and blue flashing lights lifted the shadows and multiple police cars sped towards the warehouse.

All Jughead could do was hope and pray that Betty's bike was hidden far enough away from the crime scene that the cops wouldn't locate it, as he tore off into the night at break-neck speed.

Once they were a few miles down the interstate and far enough away from Greendale that he was satisfied no Ghoulies or cops were on their tail, he pulled the bike off the road and a little way down an uneven dirt track that he hoped led to an isolated farm house.

He shut the bike off and as he went to stand, Betty's arms once again moved on apparent muscle memory to unattach themselves from his body.  She sat, almost zombified, staring off into the blackness of the corn crop that surrounded the track.

Jughead switched on Alice's phone flashlight to provide some illumination then reached out to touch Betty. Her skin was ice cold and he cursed himself for not remembering she was dressed in nothing but a light t-shirt.

She didn't stop him as he began a frantic yet systematic investigation of her body, running trembling fingers down her arms, across her face and the back of her neck and then underneath the blood soaked fabric of her clothes.

"Betts you're going to have to help me here." he begged, fingers closing around her arms to shake her gently. "I can't find where all the blood is coming from. Where are you hurt, baby? Where are you hurt?"

Eventually Betty gathered the mental strength to push him away.

"I'm not." she whispered, her voice hoarse from lack of use. "Somebody...somebody had a gun. That Ghoulie was shot and he fell on me. This is his blood." 

Jughead let out a heaving sigh of relief and then collapsed to his knees, the brown dirt immediately staining his black jeans. Hot tears spilled from his eyes, and he made no attempt to paw them away. A million worst-case scenarios had scorched themselves on the inside of his eyelids, but it was all over. Betty was safe and unhurt, nobody was chasing them and they would live to fight another day.

Remembering he had one more important duty, he turned over the phone in his hand and tapped out a quick text from Alice's phone to his own.

_[11.49pm] Ally Smith: I have her. We're okay._

Almost instantly he received a response from 'himself'.

_[11.49pm] Jughead Jones: Oh thank God. Are you coming back to the Wyrm? I'll meet you there._

For the first time, Jughead realized that he hadn't come up with a plan for a suitable place to hide out. He wasn't sure what the go was with Jon-Jon's men, but he knew the Ghoulies would be on the prowl as soon as they regrouped and licked their wounds. Malachai had already come looking for Betty at the Wyrm once before, and now that he'd also been visually placed at the warehouse he knew it was a must-avoid location for everybody involved.

By the same token, he couldn't take Betty to Alice's house in Greendale because by the time Alice made the journey in her station wagon they would have been out in the open and exposed for too long. He knew Polly also lived close-by in Greendale, but he didn't want to potentially draw Malachai anywhere near small children.

_[11.51pm] Ally Smith: No. Too dangerous. Angry Ghoulies on the loose._

Jughead thought the matter over further, then followed up with a second text.

_[11.51pm] Ally Smith: Don't you go back there either. We're going to lay low for the night. If you haven’t already…please don't tell my dad about any of this yet - he'll turn the entire gang around and force them back to Riverdale. We don't want to incite a war with the Ghoulies just yet._

_[11.52pm] Jughead Jones: Okay. Stay safe. I'll make contact in the morning. THANK YOU, Jughead._

Jughead slipped the phone back into his pocket and then looked up at Betty. She was quietly sniffling with her arms wrapped around herself to ward off the night air. He stood, gave his pants a cursory brush off and then shrugged out of his Serpents jacket to wrap it around her.

"Betts is there any chance the Ghoulies know where you live?" he asked, leaning down in an attempt to make eye contact.

She said nothing, but slowly shook her head.

Jughead countered her movement by nodding his head in the affirmative. With the Serpents all away, he didn't have a lot of choice so he figured Betty's place was probably their best option to hunker down without drawing attention. Unfortunately, though, he had the same glaringly obvious problem as the Ghoulies did. 

"Okay well you're going to have to help me out here." he said. "Give me some directions?"

"Su-Sunnyside." she mumbled.

Jughead did his best to mask his shock. He had been prepared for her to inform him that she was residing on the Southside (though he also wouldn't have been surprised if she was still sleeping somewhere respectable on the North Side and simply commuting to the Wyrm each day on her sick beast of a ride) but never in a million years did he expect a pristine Cooper girl to be slumming it in a trailer park.

Trying to conceal his thoughts on the matter, he simply nodded again then unclipped his crown helmet and forced it onto Betty's head before climbing back onto the bike and setting off in the right direction. At least he knew the way, he supposed, because Betty was still mostly out of it and would have been useless at providing directions.

It was almost an hour between Greendale and Sunnyside, so when Jughead pulled the bike into the park it was already well into the following morning. The streetlamps were flickering due to lack of maintenance, the moon hidden beneath gathering clouds and the lights in almost every home were switched off (either because the occupants had long since retired to bed, or they were away as part of the Slither), so the bike's headlight cast an eerie glow in the dead stillness.

Jughead hadn't actually stepped foot in the trailer park since before his departure for the big house, and yet everything looked dauntingly familiar. Not one cracked pot plant seemed out of place. It was almost like Sunnyside had been frozen in time. Poverty would do that to a place, he supposed.

Without even realizing what he was doing, he suddenly looked up and saw that he had driven through to the back of the park where his old trailer was still withstanding the test of time. He was beyond tired so he felt the nostalgia acutely and forced himself to turn away.

He paused momentarily to twist over his shoulder and ask Betty for directions to her home. But she silently let go of him, dismounted the bike and began walking away. Before he could even open his mouth to protest he watched as she climbed the four ramshackle wooden steps, withdrew a key that was poorly hidden beneath an old plastic tub, unlocked the door and went inside. His trailer. Went inside his trailer.

“What the..." he gasped.

Whereas moments ago his exhaustion had led him to feelings of sadness, suddenly he was seeing red. The act itself of her entering the trailer was nothing compared to what Betty had put him through over the previous twenty-four hours, but it was the straw that broke the camel’s back and he was so angry he couldn’t even think straight.

He raced after her, thundering up the front steps and slamming the front door open.

Betty was standing in the tiny kitchen, still wearing his jacket (though the helmet and backpack had been discarded on the floor), a glass of water raised to her lips. She frowned at him and slowly lowered her cup to the kitchen countertop.

"What are you doing here?" Jughead demanded. "Why are you in my home?"

The hydration appeared to have somewhat revived Betty, because her eyes were no longer dull and blank, and when she spoke there was a definite spark in her voice.

"This isn't your home." she said dryly. "You live at the Whyte Wyrm."

"Don't play cute with me." Jughead snapped, dismissing her words with a wave of his hand.

She shrugged and smirked in his direction, before removing his jacket and dropping it onto the small dining table. 

He forcibly shut the front door and then stalked into the meager living space, doing a quick 360 degree turn to take in his surroundings.

“That couch.” he said, motioning with an abrupt jerk of his head. “That’s my couch.”

His outstretched index finger stabbed the air towards the back of the single wide. “That table is my table.”

He shoved past her and entered the kitchen, yanking open cupboards as he went. “These forks are my forks. These plates are my plates. This is all my stuff!”

“Congratulations.” she said sarcastically, cocking her head to the side. “Do you want me to reimburse you for them? Here let me go find my purse, I’m sure I’ve got a spare ten dollars...”

"Do you actually live here, Betty? In the trailer where I grew up?” he asked, interrupting her sardonic musing. “I’m beginning to realize you have a serious obsession. "

“With you?” Betty scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Jesus Christ, Jughead. Don’t flatter yourself. When your dad moved to the bar last year I simply jumped on a suitable housing opportunity. Besides, Pea is living in the trailer literally across from here and Fangs isn’t too far away. My decision to live here has absolutely nothing to do with you.”

“Oh really?” he challenged boldly. “So if I open up that bedroom door I won't find that you’re also sleeping on my actual bed every night?”

Betty said nothing, but for once her eyes betrayed her. Without warning Jughead pushed back through the kitchen, down to the bedroom and turned the knob on the door.

He expected to see his bed and probably even his old sheets and comforter. What he didn’t expect was a large shaggy dog to spring out of the room, tail wagging feverishly as it threw itself excitedly at Betty’s feet.

“Hello puppy!” she squealed, reaching down to pat the mutt.

“Hot Dog?” Jughead gasped. “You even have Hot Dog too? This is insane!”

Betty looked unimpressed, even as she kept sweetly ruffling the dog’s fur. “This isn’t Hot Dog. Can you not see that? This dog looks totally different.”

“It looks the fucking same, Betty.”

“Hot Dog got hit by a car last year.” she snapped by way of explanation. “But not before he knocked up half the girl dogs in Sunnyside. This puppy was from one of his litters. Her name is Burger.”

“Burger?” he choked incredulously. “As in… _my_ favorite food?”

“Coincidence.” she snorted. “Get over yourself.”

Jughead fixed her with a pointed gaze. “Yeah sure, Cooper. Coincidence. I’d almost believe that bunch of bullshit if it weren’t for the fact your family have already so kindly filled me in on everything you’ve been doing while I’ve been gone.”

Betty’s eyed widened slightly as she registered his words, letting go of the dog and bringing herself back up to her full height.

“I know all about how you stopped the SoDale project.” he continued, beginning to tick items off on his fingers as he went. “I know about Hiram Lodge putting a bounty on your head. I know why you joined the Serpents. I know why Sweet Pea and Fangs stick to you like glue.”

Though Betty’s face remained stoic and expressionless, Jughead could see a crimson stain painting the tips of her ears and traveling quickly to her cheeks. Her pupils were blown wide as her brain went into overdrive and her fight or flight response kicked in. He almost wanted to stop yelling at her.

 _Almost_ being the operative word _._

“I know where you disappear to sometimes.” he continued heatedly. “I know you kept tabs on me via Tarzan when I was in prison. I know about your deal with Jon-Jon. I know why the Ghoulies are hunting you. I know why you’re delivering drugs, Betty. I know everything. Okay? So drop the faux innocent act because frankly it’s just embarrassing for you.”

He expected Betty to crawl inside herself. Ball her hands into fists and try to release the tension with her fingernails against her palms. Maybe to cry. But then, he was quickly learning that when it came to Betty Cooper he should only ever expect the unexpected.

Because once again he was wrong. Instead of admitting defeat, she squared her shoulders and smarted for a battle.

“Embarrassing?” she snarled. “Says the guy who stalked me all the way to fucking Greendale tonight and sobbed like a baby when he thought I was hurt. Says the guy who went to jail when it was even _hinted_ that I was going to be charged with murder. Says the guy who spends half his life staring at me across the floor of the Wyrm. You think I haven't noticed? Because I have, asshole. If I’m obsessed then so are you. You wrote the book on how to be a creeper, you psycho.”

Jughead approached her wildly, coming to stop mere inches from her face. Yet she steadily held her ground. “Are you majoring in bitchology at community college because you sure seem to be acting like one right now. I saved your life tonight, you ungrateful jerk.” he derided.

Betty faked swooning with a hand to her forehead and the fluttering of her eyelashes. “Oh woe as me. I’m just a poor little damsel and a helpless victim of the patriarchy. Thank goodness my big, strong ex-boyfriend was there to save me tonight. I certainly haven’t been able to save myself _every night_ for the past _four_ years without him. You know, the years when he refused to even fucking acknowledge my presence on Planet Earth?”

“I did that to protect you.” Jughead roared. “I wanted you to move on with your life without being tied down to a felon serving time. Can’t you understand? It was for the best. I did it for you.”

“You did it because you hate me!” she screamed. “I’m not an idiot. You made it clear how you felt.”

“I don’t hate you!” he shouted back. “Have you even been listening to yourself tonight? Are you seriously that stupid?”

“If I’m stupid then you’re a fucking moron.” she screeched, quickly becoming hysterical.

“Takes one to know one.” he rapidly returned fire.

“Get out of my house.” she said resolutely. “And never come back!”

Then she turned and rushed into the bedroom, slamming the door so powerfully that the entire trailer shook.

The shaggy dog (Burger, _not_ Hot Dog…allegedly) was decidedly not okay with the sudden turn of events, because it dashed to the closed door and started whimpering loudly and pawing at the wood.  

Moments later, the door cracked open just wide enough for the dog to scamper inside and then was once again firmly closed.

Jughead let out a shuddering breath, his head in his hands, as he flopped down onto the well-worn floral couch.

He thought back to kindergarten when he, Betty and Archie used to spend their days finger painting. Archie had been really into painting superheroes - Batman, Spider Man, the Green Lantern. Betty had painted idyllic scenes of her home life - a large house with a chimney, leafy trees, shining sun and a perfect nuclear family of four.

Jughead had preferred to spend his time mixing the paints in a quagmire on the page. First he'd add some blue, then green, then yellow. A splash of red, a dollop of purple, a smattering of orange. And then he'd swirl them all around with his chubby little fingers until he was left with nothing but a sheet of white paper covered in murky brown.

And in that exact moment, there was no better metaphor for the state of his brain. Or more specifically, what the fuck had just happened. It was emotions thrown mercilessly into a melting pot within his mind.

The bubbling stress of spending an entire day with Betty, the intense fear while she was missing, the panic as he sped to Greendale and the thumping adrenaline when he first saw the blood on her shirt and thought she was dead.

But more than that, it was the build-up of four months’ worth of seeing Betty but not being able to talk to her or touch her - the sadness that came with thinking that she hated him but not knowing why. The frustration at the people he loved for keeping so many things hidden from him.

And it was the terror and loneliness of prison life. The shame and revulsion at his own decisions, that had caused Betty to stray so far from personal safety. His fury that the adults in their world weren't able to protect them better so he'd been forced as a high school sophomore to choose between himself or Betty to go to jail for a crime neither of them had committed. The heartbreak of leaving her behind, the sorrow at cutting her from his life. Hell, it was even the tears in her eyes the last time he'd seen her as Sheriff Keller slammed the door closed between them before he was sent away.

All of the emotions had been swirling inside him for days, or months, or years and just seeing her living in the disgusting old trailer when she deserved so much more was enough to finally break him. The feelings had melted together into a brown sludge and become nothing but anger.

Anger that had resulted in the awful things he'd just screamed at her.

He felt like a total and utter jerk.

He knew he should go into that bedroom. Probably throw himself to his knees and beg her forgiveness.

But at the same time, he also wanted her to try and rest. She had the dog with her to provide a level of comfort and the window above the bed was too narrow for her to escape through. He figured his best bet was probably just to let her be for the time being.

He hit the red button at the top of the TV remote to bring the screen to life and was rewarded with the opening credits of a movie coupled with images of a shimmery Cate Blanchett and a bunch of ethereal elves forging rings. Ugh. He’d never had a thing for Tolkien.

He felt the exhaustion wash over him as he muted the audio and let his head fall back against the couch cushion.

He woke up sometime later, groggy and disoriented. A quick glance at the television showed a jaunty Legolas traipsing through a forest, so he knew he couldn't have been asleep for more than an hour or two.

At first he thought it was the rain smattering against the sides of the trailer that had awoken him. But as he sat up further, he took stock of the shaggy mutt sitting impatiently by the front door.

"What's up, Burger?" he asked groggily, rubbing at his eyes to wake himself further. "You need to go out for a minute? Use the uh, grass?"

It took him long enough to pull his boots on (he didn't remember ever taking them off - he must have been really, really tired) and stand up to realize that if the dog couldn't open the front door then it certainly hadn't opened the bedroom door either. His eyes then glanced towards the short hallway and sure enough the door to Betty's room was ajar.

"Shit." he hissed.

He couldn't believe this was happening again. Couldn't believe she'd walked right past his sleeping form and just left without him. She needed a collar with a fucking bell on it.

As he was pushing his arms into his leather jacket, he heard the distant rumble of a hot rod car and cursed once again.

He should never have brought her back to Sunnyside. The Ghoulies knew that half the Serpent population resided there, and with the gang away the park was virtually deserted apart from women, children and defenceless old men. They were like sitting ducks if the Ghoulies started knocking on doors or smashing windows.

The keys to his bike were thankfully sitting on the coffee table (which meant Betty was truly on foot this time) so he snatched them up and swung the trailer door open.

He was half out of his mind with worry when he barreled onto the little front porch and very nearly trampled the tiny form hunched on the top step.

He pulled up just in time, his hands gripping at the rickety wooden rail, but the galloping dog hot on his heels wasn't so quick to react and ran straight into the back of him.

"Go inside." he said insistently. "Go."

He nudged the dog firmly with his leg, and Burger reluctantly allowed herself to be shuffled inside again before the door clicked shut.

Jughead turned to the lone figure again. He was, of course, completely relieved that she hadn't disappeared on him again. But he was equally as worried about her. She was folded half over herself, her arms wrapped around her knees and her impossibly long hair completely slick with rain water. Even in the moonless darkness, he could see her back vibrating with sobs as she silently cried.

"Betty," he began placatingly. "Please can you come inside? It's not safe for you to be out here right now."

She slowly turned over her shoulder to look at him, and when she did his heart nearly broke completely in two just at the anguish on her face.

"Is this how it's always going to be now, Jug?" she pondered quietly. "Are we ever going to find our way back to each other?"

This version of Betty was exposed and raw in her sorrow. She was as close to the real Betty as he'd seen in four years. It was like their nonsensical screaming match had brought her to the surface for the first time, and Jughead had to tread ever-so-carefully so as not to scare her away.

He knelt down beside her, his knee joint cracking loudly in the process, and placed a tentative hand on her shoulder.

"I'm right here, Betts." he replied, his voice equally quiet. "I've _been_ right here. I'm not going anywhere."

"Because your dad forced you to be." she scoffed, though she didn't shrug off his hand.

"Because I want to be." he countered impossibly quickly. "There's nowhere else I ever want to be except where you are."

She visibly bristled and this time she did roll her shoulder back to force him to remove his hold on her. When she spoke it wasn't with anger, but instead with sadness. "Oh yeah? That's why we were in constant contact while you were in Shankshaw, right?"

“That…” Jughead sighed, letting his hot breath fall across the back of her neck. “I did that to try and keep you safe. I wanted you to have a happy life. A life that was about college and cheerleading and which boy band had the hottest single on the Billboard charts. Not a life that was about prison or crime or monthly visits behind glass partitions.”

“Not a life that was about Serpents or Ghoulies or the mafia?” she asked, laughing softly even through her tears.

“Definitely not.” he said, loudly and firmly despite his lips similarly upturning into a smirk. “You sure did throw me a curve ball with that one, Betts.”

“Curve ball. You really _do_ like baseball.” she sniffled, wiping at her nose with her bare arm despite the unrelenting rain that was still hammering the trailer park and lashed at her skin.

“No I really don’t.” he replied, feeling more courageous. “Please don’t make me watch sport ever again.”

He wasn’t sure what happened then. Maybe it was because he'd implied that they would sit down again to watch TV at some point in the future, or maybe it was just the unraveling of a petty lie he’d told to get under her skin. But she reacted as if she’d been burned and shot up to a standing position in an attempt to get away from him. He frowned and followed so that they were once again eye to eye.

He mentally placed his bet on the next words to come out of her mouth. Would she start another argument about his avoidance of her during his jail term? Perhaps try to push him away again? Maybe it would be about Jon-Jon and the drugs, or how he knew where to find her in Greendale.

“Seriously Jughead. This is too messy. It’s all too much.” she said, shaking her head irreverently. “We’ve done bad things to each other. _Bad_. You treated me like shit. I treated you like shit. We can’t ever come back from that.”

Ah, okay. Relationships and friendships and everything in between. Arguably the easiest topic to broach at such an ungodly hour, when he considered the even heavier alternatives. He could deal with that.

“We can if you want to.” he offered. “Everyone knows Betty Cooper can do anything she puts her mind to.”

Yet still her face crumpled. “Just a couple of hours ago I called you a moron _and_ a psycho creeper.”

“So? I called you an ungrateful jerk.” he countered with an off-handed shrug. “And don’t forget the part where I suggested you were majoring in bitch.”

Her lips split into a smile again, despite herself. “Yeah, that was a particularly nasty thing to say.” she admitted. “Though not entirely unwarranted.”

“I can forget about all of that, Betts. Everything I said and everything you said.” he reached out to tentatively touch her arm again and she didn’t pull away. “We can just act like it never happened. No forgiving, just forgetting.”

“I can’t forget it when I said it.” she replied, though he was witnessing her belief in that assertion crumble right before his very eyes.

“Said what?” he asked, faking memory loss as his eyes twinkling for the first time in a long time.

“I…” she began, then looked up at his face and immediately cottoned on to the fact he was being sarcastic. “Oh I see. I didn’t realize the slate had already been wiped.”

“Consider it the cleanest slate in the whole tri-state area.”

“I just…” she started uneasily, as she brought two trembling hands up to grip his shoulders. “I know so much has happened. So much to hate each other for. But I miss you, Jug. I miss you being my friend. Life was somehow so much simpler when we were sixteen and all we had to worry about was who murdered our school friend.”

Jughead reacted cynically to her words before judgingly shaking his head. “Betts I can't believe it. You actually considered Jason a friend?”

That earned him a proper laugh and he could tell for the first time that her crying had calmed to a stop. He felt accomplished that he’d managed to settle her, but he still had to find a way to get her inside. Though the way her fingers were tightening over the leather of his jacket, he suddenly wasn’t in such a rush.

“I wish I could still consider you a friend.” she admitted shyly.

“Well let’s work on that.” he responded, suddenly emboldened by the way the conversation was unfolding.

But Betty shook her head despondently. “It’s unfeasible. I’m just so broken.”  

“Me too.” he replied lightly. “We all are.”

“I’m…I’m scared, Jug.” she offered then.

His brows furrowed as he looked down at her, rain drops trickling down the sides of her face. “Of what?”

“That I’ll never feel as happy as I was back then.” she whispered. “Back when we were kids. When it was just us. When you loved me.”

“Who says I don’t still love you?” he murmured, before his brain-to-mouth filter could kick into gear.

Suddenly his heart was hammering in his chest for a very different reason. He felt the butterflies stirring in the depths of his stomach and a warmth spread through his torso and down to his extremities as she stepped close enough that their bodies were flush against each other. He moved both his hands down to snake around her waist and pull her even nearer.

“Do you?” she breathed, so close to him now that he could almost physically feel her lips moving against his own as she spoke.

“I…”

Suddenly a stray tabby cat screeched and ran across the grass, seeking shelter from the downpour. It triggered the motion sensor light attached to the trailer next door and the darkness surrounding them was suddenly lit up.

It was enough to make Betty gasp and pull back slightly in surprise, and then shriek as she looked down at herself.

Jughead hadn’t realized it before, but she was yet to change out of the clothes she’d been wearing in Greendale. As they stood together on the porch, the rain had saturated the fabric and caused the Ghoulie blood to wash down her body then puddle at her feet.

“Jesus.” Jughead grimaced. “That’s something you don’t see every day.”

Betty let go of him completely and took as large a step backward as she could manage in the small space. The intimate moment between them was completely lost, but what remained was a sense of easy comradery.

“Are you there God? It’s me, Margaret.” she smirked.

Though an obscure literary reference was not quite the reaction he’d been expecting from her, Jughead decided it was by far the best one he could ever have hoped for because it spoke volumes about the current state of Betty’s mental health.

“Okay Deadpool, let’s get you inside and cleaned up.” he laughed.

He offered his hand and she took it, then he led her back into the trailer (something Burger was _very_ happy about) and deadbolted the door behind them. A sense of relief washed over him as soon as the lock clicked into place.

Betty let out a strangled scream as she realized she was dripping watered down blood onto the floor so she sprinted straight to the bathroom. Jughead left her to get undressed in peace and went to fetch two towels (thick and fluffy; definitely _not_ a relic from his days of living there). By the time he returned, her form was hidden behind the clean yet faded plastic curtain and the room was filled with steam from the heat of the shower. He deposited one towel on the bathroom sink then used the other to dry himself off. 

Giving her some space, he wandered out to the living area and sat on the old chair underneath the window, tapping his fingers idly on the table. He knew nothing was fixed between them. There was still so much left unsaid, and so many details to nut out.

He wanted to tell her how mad he was about the stunt she’d pulled in Greendale. He wanted to let her have it for all the lies and deception. But he knew they were weak and tired, and now was not the time. They needed to rest and regroup before they spoke any further.

Betty emerged from the bathroom sparkling clean and wrapped in the towel, and quickly disappeared into the bedroom. There was some shuffling, the opening and closing of doors and then the sound of silence.

“Jug.” she finally called out. “You need to get some sleep.”

Jughead sighed, raked his fingers through his hair (where had he left his beanie? At the hacker’s house or at his apartment?) then stood and headed for the couch. He’d slept on it enough times over the years that at least he knew it was comfortable. And he’d truly sleep easier knowing Betty was safe in her own bed.

He’d just settled in and closed his eyes when she called out again.

“Jug are you coming?”

Jughead’s eyes widened as the realization of what she’d meant washed over him. Not needing to be asked twice, he pulled himself to his feet and padded quickly into her pitch-black room. He couldn’t make out figures, but he could hear the dog softly snoring in the corner.

He was standing in the doorway, illuminated by a slither of light from the kitchen, when he kicked off his boots and jacket. But before he could do anything else he noticed that his shirt was still wet and also slightly bloody (they really had been holding each other tightly outside). Wincing, he peeled the item of clothing over his head and discarded it on the worn carpet. It was then he looked down and saw his jeans were equally gross, so he blushingly wiggled out of them to leave himself awkwardly exposed in nothing more than his boxers. He was suddenly glad the bedroom itself was in almost complete darkness.

“Um. I’m a little dirty.” he admitted bashfully. “Maybe I should go take a sho – ”

“No.” came her firm response. “I don’t care. I just want to sleep. Will you lie with me?”

“Of course, Betts.” he hummed.

He made his way to the bed and sank down onto the familiar mattress, crawling under the blanket. Moments later he felt the heat of her body and then she curled up next to him. He wondered briefly if she’d fit so perfectly against him in all of his dreams and fantasies.

She brought her hands up to his bare chest, placing them gingerly near his heart, then threw one leg up over his waist to lock him in place. As if there was even the remotest possibility he was going anywhere.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” she murmured, and though he couldn’t see her he could smell the peppermint of her toothpaste on her breath. “I can’t believe this is real. Are you real?”

“I’m real, Betts.” was the only response he could muster.

He felt like he was floating on a cloud. Just hours earlier he’d been fighting for her life and now she was safe and secure in his arms. To touch her and smell her was more than he’d ever hoped for.  

“Please can you still be here when I wake up?” she asked. 

Jughead let out a small chuckle. “I promise.”

He thought maybe he felt her mouth then, moving with a feathery lightness against his own. But the sensation was gone just as quickly as it appeared.  Betty suddenly shifted in the bed, turning her back to him but bringing one of his arms with her to wrap around her torso so that he was spooning her.

He hooked his fingers under her ribcage and then drew her body carefully towards his own to anchor her to him. Or maybe he was anchoring himself to her. He wasn’t really sure and it didn’t really matter.

They could weather their storms tomorrow.

All that mattered in that very moment was that they were together.

For the first time in a long time, it felt good to be alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for sticking around! I had so much fun writing this (protective Jug, angry Jug and soft Jug all in one chapter haha) so I really hope you liked it. Four chapters to go, then an epilogue and then we're finally finished - I'm starting to visualize the finish line now. But please stick around because there's still plenty of plot twists, loose ends to tie up and of course some fluffy bughead romance :)


	12. On The Lam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're going to regret this, Jug." Archie insisted. "You're going to regret allowing her back into your life."
> 
> "The only thing I regret," Jughead said, leering forward with a little smirk. "Is that I wasn't there with the girls when the SoDale project came crashing down." 
> 
> Then he turned and quickly glanced in both directions before stepping out onto the road and jogging back towards the station wagon. His hand was on the passenger door when Archie's furious voice thundered from across the street.
> 
> "If you get in that car, Jughead Jones, our friendship is over!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people! Thank you to those of you who commented on my previous chapter - I really appreciate the feedback so much! Here's another mammoth 10k word chapter for you all to digest. 
> 
> Just on a side note (and without posting any spoilers for Season 3 of the show) I just wanted to remind you all that I started writing this fic in the hiatus between Seasons 2A and 2B which took place before the core 4 went to Shadow Lake or the events that transpired there. That means any similarities between the opening chapters of my story and what is currently happening on Riverdale (albeit to a completely different character than Jughead) is pure coincidence haha.
> 
> Also - I'm rushing because I really wanted to get this chapter uploaded prior to tonight's episode so I haven't triple proof read it. Sorry for any errors!

It was daytime but still raining solidly outside, the droplets creating a rhythmic patter on the trailer roof, when Jughead opened his eyes and rolled over on the mattress.

His fingers reached out as if on instinct, but he was met with nothing but vacant air. The bed beside him was cold, indicating that Betty had long since departed the bed.

He sat up with a start, the fear that she had once again tricked him and run away bubbling very close to the surface. But it only took long enough for his brain to focus and he recognized voices talking softly in the living area.

"Are you sure you don't want to go to your sister's house? You'd be safer there."

He was not in the least surprised to hear the familiar lilt of Alice Cooper ( _Ally Smith_ , he reminded himself) as she had undoubtedly followed the GPS signal on Jughead's bike to their exact location.

But his throat painfully constricted at her suggestion that Betty ought to hide out at Polly's house. It was a good suggestion, but also one that would bring him at least a minor amount of heartache. In some ways he felt like he'd only just gotten Betty back (although he hadn't, not really...not yet) and the thought of her leaving so soon was enough to make him feel sick.

"I know, Mom. But I'm not going to leave Jughead behind." Jughead's stomach tightened in excitement as soon as the words left Betty's mouth. "He can't come with me to her place but nor can he stay here alone. He definitely got made by Malachai at the warehouse last night. It's just not safe for him in Riverdale right now. Even if you _have_ hired rent-a-cops to guard the Wyrm."

"They're not rent-a-cops Elizabeth, they're reputable licensed security guards. And I don't want to start placing blame, but whose fault is it that Jughead was even there last night in the first place?"

Jughead gulped at that, dragged himself out of bed and quickly wandered over to the wardrobe to try and find something - anything - suitable to wear in the company of Alice Cooper ( _Ally Smith Ally Smith Ally Smith_ ).

He knew mother and daughter had every right to discuss what had happened the previous evening, but he also didn't need Betty heaping more blame on herself when they were still yet to have a proper discussion with each other. He had to get out there as fast as possible to dissipate the conversation.

"Mom don't start..."

"I'm not starting, honey. I'm just saying."

"Well don't say either. I feel bad enough as it is. What a disaster. He'll probably never forgive me."

"Oh honey are you seriously that ingenuous? You could tell that boy you ate the last slice of pizza in all of the world and he'd just shrug it off as if he never liked pizza in the first place."

"Shshsh Mom! Not so loud! You'll wake him up."

The chatter abruptly stopped then and he imagined both women turning silently to stare at the ajar bedroom door. He froze, head half way inside the wardrobe, and held his breath. As if they both somehow possessed super hearing and would glean that his intake of oxygen was occurring someplace other than the bed itself.

"Don't worry. Jones men sleep like the dead."

"Gross, Mom. Ew."

Jughead exhaled deeply (and did his best to ignore the disgusting mental image Alice had inadvertently forced into the inner working of his brain) then snatched an oversized black tee and yanked it over his head. He quickly glanced down at himself to make sure he looked somewhat presentable and gasped when he saw a faded S printed on the fabric. A little thrill shot through him as he realized Betty had been hoarding some of his clothing.

"Oh lighten up, honey. I wouldn't know from recent experience." Alice chortled.

"And yet I repeat...ew." came Betty’s snarky response.

Jughead chose that exact moment to make his grand exit from the bedroom.

Betty was sitting cross legged on the couch, dressed in a pale blue tank top with dark cotton shorts. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and she was sipping casually at a disposable coffee cup. She didn't look like the broken, scared and angry version of herself that he'd seen the previous evening. And despite the odd conversation he'd overheard, she seemed calm and comfortable in the presence of her polarizing parent.

As he entered the room she glanced up at him and for a split second her face broke into a beaming grin. Then she visibly checked herself and shyly glanced down to the dog lying next to her on the faded floral cushions. It was almost as if she was afraid of what last night's developments meant for them and she wasn't sure where they stood anymore. It was interesting to see her outwardly nervous for a change.

Alice was busying herself in the kitchen, but when she caught sight of Jughead she rushed over and enveloped him in a tight embrace. Stunned, Jughead stumbled backward a little. Eventually he brought his hands around her torso and allowed them to hover in mid-air, making patting motions lightly against her shoulder blades.

"Oh Jughead." Alice cooed, finally letting go of him. "Thank you for what you did last night. Thank you for always taking care of my Betty."

"Uh, of course. It's fine." Jughead muttered, raking his fingers through his scruffy hair before more firmly adding. "Don't mention it."

It wasn't that he was embarrassed by Alice's overtly affectionate, albeit misplaced, display of mothering. He knew enough about her, having grown up alongside her daughter, to understand her multifaceted personality and her tendency to blow very hot then very cold.

What had him acting awkwardly was more so the fact that she'd said what she said in front of Betty. Something uncomfortable stirred within him at the insinuation that it was somehow necessary for him to take care of Betty. Which was stupid, because of course he took care of her. Just as she took care of him and _had_ been taking care of him for most of their lives. They took care of each other. They were, well, symbiotic.

But Betty had made her stance on the matter perfectly clear. She'd yelled it, in fact, across that very same living room mere hours earlier. She wasn't a damsel in distress that needed saving - she was a strong, independent, feminist woman capable of handling herself.

Hell, she'd been out there on her own handling a whole truck load of super heavy stuff day-in day-out for years. Imploding the SoDale project, sending mobsters off to jail, joining a gang, graduating at the top of her Southside High class and running drugs in exchange for his protection all whilst keeping her nails manicured and her hair preened. She was like a superhero and he was completely in awe of her.

Most importantly he didn't want to create any further animosity between them before they had a chance to talk through the deeper issues.  

Betty, for her part, seemed not to have noticed her mother's implication as she was frantically tapping out a message on her phone. Clearly Alice had returned the device to her whenever she'd arrived at the trailer that morning.

"Here." Alice spoke again, pushing a lukewarm coffee cup into Jughead's hands. "I brought you this. And there's bagels in the kitchen. And muffins! I made muffins. Oh and those little mini caramel pies that you always seemed to like so much!"

Jughead had absolutely no idea how Alice had possibly found the time to whip up several batches of baked goods after he'd left her at the hacker’s house less than fifteen hours ago, but he certainly wasn't complaining.

"You don't have to tell me twice." Jughead smirked, grabbing a plate and piling it high with goodies before scampering over to sit next to Betty on the couch.

They were close, but not touching, with Burger planted firmly between them and almost acting as a pooch shaped barrier. He wondered if she could feel the simmering tension too, or if it was just all in his head. It wasn't as if they hadn't just spent hours wrapped in each other’s arms, so he wasn't sure where his sudden nervousness stemmed from.

While Alice was fussing in the kitchen, Jughead took the opportunity to reach across the doggie divide and gently place his hand on Betty's leg. It was a touch meant to denote both comfort and understanding - an unspoken message that everything was still okay between them. The warmth of her skin had an immediate calming effect on his psyche and he sighed gratefully. Betty glanced up at him, clearly both surprised and relieved at the physical contact. She offered him a coy smile and then dropped her eyes back to the device in her palm to resume texting.

As soon as Alice returned to the living area, Jughead withdrew his hand and returned to consuming his breakfast. Despite the fact Betty wasn't outwardly paying attention to anything other than her phone, he saw her leg visibly twitch at the loss of contact and bit back a smirk.

"You're such a good boy, Jughead." Alice sighed wistfully. "We're so lucky to have you in our lives. I shudder just thinking about the alternatives. I mean, if things had turned out a little differently I could have ended up with not one but two imbecilic gingers as sons-in-law."

This, however, did get Betty's attention and she dropped her phone into her lap with a noticeable thud.

"Mom!" she snapped, her voice laced with warning.

“Oh honey can't you take a little joke?" Alice chuckled with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"Is now really the time to be joking?" Betty huffed.

"Well I'm just trying to lighten the mood." she shrugged.

Alice went and fetched a chair from the small dining table and then dragged it over to sit next to the couch. "But perhaps we need to turn the conversation to more serious matters. Like for example, exactly what happened last night."

"I already told you Mom." Betty replied curtly, rolling her eyes. "I'm pretty sure Jon-Jon used me as bait."

This was new information to Jughead and he frowned even as he quizzically quirked an eyebrow in her direction. She noticed his confusion and the annoyance left her face as she spoke again to clarify her words.

"I made my usual pick-up at Midvale, but then instead of delivering my shipment to the regular drop point I was given an address in Greendale.” Betty told him. “When I arrived, a bunch of Jon-Jon's goons were already hiding out there. It was like they expected the Ghoulies to show up."

"But why would they do that?" Jughead pondered aloud. "Why would a powerful man like Jon-Jon care enough about some two-bit gang like the Ghoulies to set a trap for them?"

"Well I'm not exactly part of the mafioso group email chat so I'm not quite in-the-know." Betty said sarcastically, then visibly checked herself and offered him an apologetic grimace before continuing. "But if I had to make an educated guess, I'd say that the Ghoulies are starting to become an irritation. They've been trying to run interference on Jon-Jon's distribution line for a while and they've really stepped up their efforts now that Jon-Jon has upgraded his product."

"Upgraded?" Alice asked, the journalist in her clearly piqued. "What have they got you moving now?"

The innocuous question seemed so wrong as it fell effortlessly from Alice's lips. Jughead couldn't believe he was actually existing in a version of reality where Betty's straight-laced Stepford mother was in any way complicit in her distributing drugs. Especially because that complicity had been required on Alice’s part in order to keep _him_ safe.

But then, the craziness of the passing years seemed to have brought Betty and Alice closer together and opened them up more fully to each other's lives. Alice seemed to have accepted the Serpent in Betty just as she had also finally accepted it within herself. Perhaps that included a grudging understanding that Betty was going to do imprudent things.

Jughead then thought about his own father and realized it was a fair assessment that both of their parents were conjoined in their reluctant willingness to allow their children to act foolishly in order to keep the other safe. Both parents had also taken a somewhat protective watch over each of the Jones and Cooper children.

It was official. He life had become a weird, modernized, fucked up version of the Brady Bunch. 

"It's some new super drug." Betty explained, drawing Jughead's mind back to the present. "All I know is that it's potent and expensive, and much more coveted than Jangle. They're calling it Mellow X."

Journalist Alice was fully in the driver’s seat then as she snatched her phone up from where Jughead had discarded it on the coffee table. She brought up her email and scrolled through the pages, then finally let out a triumphant “a _ha!”_

"I knew I'd heard something about this before.” she crowed. “The Greendale Gazette has been researching Mellow X for an exposé but we were having trouble tracking down a name for it. All we know is that..." she paused and then began reading from her phone screen. "It's caused at least two teens over in Centerville to collapse and then last week the death of a Midvale High student. You haven't taken any of this drug have you, Elizabeth?"

Betty gasped in indignation. "Mom of course not. I would never. I just pick it up and drop it off." 

But Jughead knew Betty's tells. He knew them because even after all these years they were also his own tells.

He carefully watched her clench her jaw slightly, then avert her eyes to the right before darting her tongue out to lick across her bottom lip. He recognized immediately that something in her previous statement had been a lie and made a mental note to investigate further when he had a chance.

"So what happened with the Ghoulies last night after the cops came?" Jughead asked, trying to redirect the conversation.

"All quiet on that front." Alice answered with relief. "I half expected them to turn up at the Wyrm but there was nothing on the police scanners and no Ghoulies on the prowl.”

“That’s good news.” Jughead affirmed.

“My contact at the Greendale General Hospital confirmed several gang members attended last night with wounds of varying degrees.” Alice continued soberly. “I don't have an insider with the Ghoulies but I do know it's usual practice for Malachai to lay low until his boys are up to full strength, so perhaps we won't hear from them for another day or two."

"And if they do show up?" Jughead asked worriedly.

"For now I've got beefy security guarding the Wyrm." Alice said, rather proudly.

“Rent-a-cops.” Betty muttered mostly under her breath.

Alice scowled at Betty then turned to glare pointedly at Jughead.

"Look - I did as you asked last night, Jughead, and kept your father in the dark on all this business.” she said. “But I want you to know that as soon as he calls today I'll be informing him of the situation. I've no doubt he will immediately turn the Serpents around and head for home. The -"

"No!" Jughead interjected. "That's a terrible idea. Do _not_ tell him. Please Alice I'm begging you."

"Malachai saw both of us in Greendale last night, Jug." Betty argued resignedly. "We need the other Serpents here in case he defies the treaty and things get ugly."

"Exactly! You're expecting a war." Jughead said, eyeballing her and then her mother in turn. "And what if some of the Serpents get injured or killed? You'll blame yourself for the rest of your life. Not to mention as soon as my dad finds out you disobeyed him while you’re on probation you'll be kicked out forever. I have entirely _zero_ issues with you no longer being in a damn biker gang, but I have a feeling you won't like it very much. Am I right?"

Betty's silence and lack of eye contact was all the answer he needed.

"Just think about it. There can't be any violence if there's no Serpents here to engage." he continued. "There's got to be a smarter way than dozens of Serpents rushing home to fight."

"So what are you suggesting?" Betty asked curiously.

"We need to get out of town. Disappear." Jughead said, thinking mostly on the fly. "If the Wyrm is guarded then he can't attack us. So let Malachai waste his time trying to find us while we come up with a plan. It should de-escalate things, too - out of sight, out of mind."

Betty and Jughead turned to look at each other. He could almost read her mind from the expression on her face - his plan was offering them a chance to lay low together. Alone. To either fix their fractured relationship once and for all, or disentangle themselves from each other's lives. And she was as keen for the scenario as he was.

Both the young people in the trailer then turned to look at the parental figure expectantly; silently awaiting her verdict.

After a long pause she sighed and nodded. "Fine. But if there's any sign of danger I'm turning the Slither around immediately."

"Agreed." they both chirped in perfect unison, perhaps a little too keenly.

"But you need to be inconspicuous." Alice added sternly, trying to temper their excitement. "Head north towards the Catskills. Or even further - maybe Albany or Saratoga. Absolutely nothing gang related - no motorcycles, no club jackets and keep your snake tattoos off display."

"Yes Mom." Betty said quietly, which led Jughead to immediately wonder if she actually had a Serpents tattoo and where it could possibly be hiding.

"Jughead go and buy a burner phone." Alice said, turning to sharply look at him. "It would be better for everyone involved if your parole officer is unable to track you for the time being. I want you both to check in with me every single night at 7pm sharp. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal clear." Jughead nodded.

After that, everything was arranged quite quickly.

While Betty went to her room to pack a bag, Jughead filled Alice in on the exact whereabouts of the Ducati he'd stashed in the bushes back at the Greendale warehouse. Alice told him not to worry about it and assured him that she would make arrangements for it to be transported back to 'suitable' storage. He was confident that she didn't want him asking any further questions, so he let the matter drop.

Alice then passed him the keys to her station wagon, a bag containing a change of clothes and his toothbrush that she'd brought over for him from his apartment at the Wyrm ("nothing weird, Jughead - I just figured you'd want to take a shower this morning that's all.") and a wad of hundred-dollar bills.

He flatly refused the money three times before finally acquiescing to her insistent demands that he not be disadvantaged financially due to what she described as Cooper family mistakes.

Once Betty emerged, dressed to expertly blend in with the upstate summer tourists in a soft pink sun dress with strappy sandals and her hair pinned back with a cute barrette, Jughead swapped places with her and headed to the bedroom to get changed himself.

As he pulled on his jeans, placed his beanie atop his head and tied the laces on his black Converse (and tried not to think about Alice rifling through his drawers to find these items) he could hear Alice and Betty making arrangements for the dog.

"Burgie you're going to go and stay with Grandma for a few days, okay?" Betty lulled and Jughead smiled as he could clearly picture her bending down and affectionately ruffling the fur on the mutt's neck.

"Oh Elizabeth you know how I feel about you referring to me in such a way." Alice grumbled.

"But you _are_ a grandmother, Mom." Betty argued, just as Jughead joined them once more.

"Yes - to the twins." Alice scowled. " _Not_ to a dog."

"Are you saying you favor Polly's children over mine?" Betty gasped, clearly enjoying her ability to get a rise out of her mother.

"Come now, Betty." Alice said. "I'm sure one day your little Forsythes and Forsythias will give Juniper and Dagwood a run for their money and we'll just have a whole big family full of children with ridiculous names. But until then, keep a lid on your complaints."

With that awkward thought cemented firmly in everyone's minds, they headed outside and dumped their bags on the back seat of Alice's car. The rain had slowed to merely a drizzle, and the summer air was mild. Jughead held the keys out to Betty but she deftly shook her head, so he climbed into the driver’s seat and started the motor while he waited for Betty and Alice to finish their goodbyes.

They'd been driving in a slightly uncomfortable silence for almost ten minutes when she finally shifted and looked over at him.

"Sorry about my mom." she said softly, her face a little flushed with perhaps embarrassment or nervousness.

"No apology necessary." he smiled back. "I mean at least she's stopped putting that weird little gap between Jug and Head when she says my name now."

Betty burst out laughing at that and the tension seemed to veritably melt away.

"I need to make a little stop before we head up north." he announced, the smile still lingering on his lips. "Is that okay?"

"Sure. You need to get some more clothes and supplies?" she guessed.

"Yes, I do." he replied, suddenly becoming awkward. "But I also need to check in with my, uh, parole officer."

And just like that, the tension returned to the vehicle.

Betty stilled abruptly and he felt a wave of guilt wash over him. He'd already worked out anything prison related was an immediate trigger for her and he truly hadn't intended to wound her with his words.

"Okay." she said quietly, balling her hands into fists and fixing her gaze out the passenger window.

"Hey, um." he started again, scrambling to keep her engaged and not close herself off. "You know what would be really helpful? If while I'm with my parole officer you go and pick me up some stuff."

She turned to look at him then, her face pensive. "You trust me to choose clothes for you?"

"Sure." he shrugged, offering her a grin. "You know my color palette pretty well."

"Yeah you're more of a summer than a winter." she smirked. "Bright and cheerful clothing coming right up."

Jughead brought the car to a stop on the main drag of Riverdale and passed Betty a handful of the hundred-dollar notes that he'd stuffed into his pocket earlier. She then headed left towards the shops that lined the street and he turned right to enter the parole office.

As suspected, Officer Caldwell had a range of extremely probing questions about Jughead's whereabouts the previous night. More specifically how his motorcycle had come to be located close to the scene of a crime in Greendale whilst his phone had remained firmly within the Riverdale city limits the entire evening.

"Look, I assure you." Jughead began, waving his hand dismissively. "I haven't been near any sort of crime scene." Lie. "Not last night. Not any night." Lie. "Nor have I witnessed anyone planning to undertake any crimes." Lie. "This is no big deal. Someone from my club probably just borrowed my ride. Okay?" Well, _half-lie._

"Mr Jones I want you to know that I have nothing to pin on you just at this moment." Caldwell had responded with suspicious eyes narrowed to nothing more than angry slits. "But I know you're up to something and I will be watching you _extremely_ closely."

"Watch away." Jughead shrugged. "If you need me I'll be bumming around the Sunnyside trailer park enjoying some well-earned rest for the remainder of the week."

Well, at least his phone would be bumming around the Sunnyside trailer park. In Betty's trailer (His trailer? His dad's trailer? _The_ trailer.) exactly where they had deliberately left it.

By the time he was finally dismissed from the office, his body language was the perfect picture of cool and calm but his insides were a screaming ball of anxiety. He knew he was playing a dangerous game. Omitting recent events from his father and the rest of the Serpents was one thing, but skirting on the wrong side of the law whilst still on parole was a huge risk. He didn't want to go back to jail, he really didn't.

As he headed back down the sidewalk he spotted Betty sitting up on the hood of the car, her outward anxiety mirroring his own churning mind. Immediately he plastered a happy expression on his face before calling out to her.

"Well hello there, pretty lady. What's in the bag?"

She matched his smile with one of relief and then slid off the hood to plant her feet firmly on the ground before closing the distance between them.

"I hope you like wearing miniskirts and black lingerie, Jug. Because I'm afraid that's all they had in your size." she joked.

"Oh I love lingerie." he smirked, before his expression darkened and his hand crept up to her shoulder. "I mostly prefer it on you though..."

For a split second he worried he'd overstepped an unspoken boundary. They'd only just started speaking to each other without yelling and he still had no true concept of where their relationship was headed.

But before he could retract his words, Betty's eyes clouded with heated emotion and she primally bit her lip. Jughead could almost see the lust taking over her brain as her breathing quickened and her own hand moved to clutch at the fabric of his shirt.

"Jug..." she started, her mouth inching slowly towards his own.

"Betty..." he returned, his eyes sliding shut as he moved forward and prepared to capture her lips with her own.

"Jug!"

The pair gasped and broke apart, both slightly disoriented and confused. Had Betty spoken? It hadn't sounded like Betty's voice, and she looked just as perplexed as he did.

"Jughead!"

This time they'd both clearly heard it.

"Fuck." Jughead hissed. "You’ve gotta be kidding me."

Their eyes moved automatically to follow the sound of the angry voice, and they caught sight of Archie Andrews hovering near the gutter on the other side of the road. He was glaring daggers at them and looked like he was basically ready to go on a murderous rampage.

Shit.

Jughead had been so caught up in the craziness of life that the proximity of the Andrews construction site to the parole office had slipped his mind.

"Jughead I need you to come over here." Archie shouted venomously. "Now."

Jughead scratched the back of his neck nervously and glanced over at Betty. She appeared almost sick to her stomach with fear and anxiety at the situation unfolding. He reached up to tentatively touch the wisps of blonde hair that had fallen across her cheek and tuck them back behind her ear. 

"Betts go wait in the car for me, okay?" he said softly.

"Jughead maybe I should -" she started anxiously.

"It's okay, Betts." he soothed. "Just go get the engine started. I'll be there in just a minute."

Betty stared at him pointedly, then slowly nodded. He grasped her fingers and squeezed them for a moment as he passed the keys to her, then shoved his hands defensively into his jean pockets and hurried across the street.

"Arch." he greeted, trying to keep his voice level. "How are you?"

"What's going on Jughead?" Archie all but snarled. "Was that Betty I just saw you with?"

Jughead rolled his eyes and momentarily glanced back over his shoulder to where the station wagon was parked. If Archie was planning on turning up the volume on his dumb jock persona then that was fine, but he was currently too wired to put up with it.

"Seriously? You know it was, Arch." he chided. "You've known her since she was in diapers - I'm sure you remember what she looks like."

Archie fumed at that, crossing his muscular arms in front of his chest. "Well I thought you weren't friends with her anymore. That's what you told me."

"What does it matter to you who I'm friends with?" Jughead asked.

Archie's eyes widened as if the question was both shocking and preposterous.

"Because it's Betty." he said resolutely, as if that was somehow the only obvious answer.

"Right." Jughead nodded. "It's Betty. The girl who taught you to read in grade school. The girl who regularly baked us cookies. The girl who had a crush on you until we were fifteen. Or have you conveniently forgotten all those things?"

"Have _you_ conveniently forgotten she almost financially ruined my family?" Archie spat back. "She stole from us, Jughead. We lost our house. I lost my girlfriend. She cost me everything."

Again, Jughead violently rolled his eyes. "Yeah you already told me all that. But you know what you failed to mention, pal? That Betty actually stole documents exposing the massive illegality and corruption within the SoDale project. And that your precious lost girlfriend was right there alongside her when she stole them."

"You're going to regret this, Jug." Archie insisted. "You're going to regret allowing her back into your life."

"The only thing I regret," Jughead said, leering forward with a little smirk. "Is that I wasn't there with the girls when the SoDale project came crashing down." 

Then he turned and quickly glanced in both directions before stepping out onto the road and jogging back towards the station wagon. His hand was on the passenger door when Archie's furious voice thundered from across the street.

"If you get in that car, Jughead Jones, our friendship is over!"

Jughead just shook his head in disgust and disbelief before yanking open the door and sliding into the seat.

He glanced over at Betty as he was clicking the door shut. She was buckled into the driver’s seat firmly clasping at the wheel, but both her hands were physically trembling.

A second glance at her face alerted him to the fact that despite her abject silence there were big fat tears rolling down her suddenly pale cheeks.

Almost on auto-pilot, Jughead reached over and pried one of her hands off the wheel, taking it in his own.

"Betts. Hey. It's okay." he said softly. "Switch places with me, okay? Let me drive."

"I..." she started, then clamped her mouth shut before a sob could escape.

"Let's just make life easier for us both and get out of here, okay?" he continued placatingly. "Switch places."

He exited the car and came around to the other side, just as she unbuckled and scooted across the center console to slip onto the passenger seat. Jughead kept his eyes firmly planted on the car and deliberately avoided letting his eyes wander across the street where he was sure Archie was still loitering. He put the engine into gear and sped away from the scene without so much as a backward glance in the mirror.

Jughead guided the car north and waited until he was comfortably out of a high traffic area before reaching for Betty’s hand again. She flinched and jerked her arm away, pressing herself up against the door and window to remove herself from his scope of reach.

He sighed heavily but decided not to push the issue. It wasn't as if she was going anywhere any time soon. At least not while he was doing 50 miles per hour on the Palasaides Interstate Parkway.

Betty was silent for a dramatically long time with her eyes squeezed shut and Jughead had almost convinced himself she'd fallen asleep when she suddenly spoke.

"I'm sorry about Archie." she said in a croaky whisper.

"No don't be sorry." Jughead responded firmly without missing a beat. "Not about him."

"It's my fault you were put in that position. It's my fault he made you choose between us." she continued, her voice breaking as the tears began to fall again. "If I'd known you were still close with him I would have stayed away. It's not fair to you."

"Betty..." he started, but she suddenly lurched forward as if she'd been struck by an epiphany.

"We can go back.” she announced. “I'll go and stay with my sister. You can make things right with Archie. Okay?"

"No, not okay." Jughead scowled. "Betts I'm barely even friends with the guy. We've hung out a few times since I came home but even then it was only when he begged. Besides, I know we haven't exactly talked through our multitudinous issues yet but I'd like to think I've made it clear that if it came down to a choice I'd choose you. Over Archie. Over anyone. I'd choose you. End of story."

Betty gasped and snapped back into her seat, her shoulders thumping as they hit the vinyl. She was staring at him wide-eyed and once again said nothing, but this time when his hand traveled across the middle of the car in search of her own she silently laced her fingers with his. There would be no further protests to turn the car around.

Well, that was that.

His friendship with Archie was finally over. Really, it had been over for several years. It's not like they'd been cute little pen pals or anything whilst Jughead was incarcerated. But there would no longer be a future for them. Not after the way Archie had treated Betty.

If Jughead was being honest with himself, he really wasn't upset by the idea of losing Archie from his life. In many ways it was a fait accompli, and a relationship that had run its natural course.

Jughead silently bid one of his oldest friends farewell, then once again turned his attention to his _other_ oldest friend. The pretty one with the blonde hair and the dazzling eyes. She was the one who still occupied his heart and mind. 

"What's the deal with Archie, if you don't mind me asking?" he carefully broached, ensuring his grip on her hand was still solid. "I've never seen him act that way before."

He expected more tears or perhaps a strong rejection of his question, but instead Betty just rolled her eyes and leaned a little toward him.

"It would be easy to hate him, because he hates me." she answered sadly. "But the truth is I mostly feel sorry for him. Rehab didn't quite fix him the way Mr Andrews hoped it would. I find the whole thing quite upsetting."

"Uh...rehab?" Jughead frowned, suddenly completely lost.

Betty's eyebrows furrowed. "Wait. What did he tell you happened between us?"

"He said you stole from his family and ruined them financially. I know now that he was talking about the SoDale stuff, but he failed to mention that at the time." Jughead started slowly and cautiously. "He also said that because of you Mr Andrews had to sell his house and they almost lost their business. Oh and that Veronica was taken away back to New York to live with family once her parents were jailed."

After a few moments of extremely tense silence, Betty tipped her head back and let out a raucous laugh.

"Are you serious?" she asked between hysterical giggles. "He actually said that? Wow."

Shocked, Jughead could do nothing except nod. The rain had increased in fervor again and he had to carefully divide his concentration between Betty's words and the white effervescent lines that guided his way on the dark, rain slicked road (and because it really had been a long time since he'd driven a car instead of a bike).

"Okay first of all," she said, wiping the now happy tears from the corners of her eyes. "What I did _saved_ the business. The Lodges were deliberately going to use Fred as the fall guy in their diabolical scheme. Mr Andrews knows that. Why do you think he gave your dad a job a few years back?"

"Oh." Jughead said dumbly, eyes still dead set on the road ahead. "I didn't even think of that."

"Your dad was my protector from Hiram and I was living with him at the time." Betty explained. "So by hiring FP, Mr Andrews was helping us both out."

"Well that makes sense." Jughead replied, trying not to read into the fact that for a time at least Betty had been residing with his father whilst he was residing in a prison cell.

"As for Veronica, she didn't get _sent_ back to New York. She chose to leave. She mindfully left Archie behind." Betty further explained.

"She dumped him?" Jughead gasped. "That's certainly not the way he explained it to me."

The steady rain suddenly started coming down as blinding sheets in a torrential downpour, with the wily wind whipping the droplets against the windshield. Jughead slipped his hand from Betty's and cemented it on the wheel in order to ensure he had full control of the car.

"Well what would you do if both your parents had just been sent to jail and then you found out your own boyfriend was more loyal to them than to you?" Betty asked, clearly not as concerned by the rain storm as he was.

Jughead slowed the vehicle slightly, flicked on the headlights and leaned forward in his seat to try and peer through the rain-blurred glass in front of him.

"Huh? What do you mean?" he asked absently.

"Archie." Betty said. "He was super in with Hiram's crime boss stuff. He'd kissed the ring or whatever you call it. He was more loyal to Hiram than to Veronica. It was this whole big thing."

"You're saying Archie was a mobster?" Jughead chuckled, because surely it had to be a joke. "Betts please be serious."

"I'm completely serious!" Betty announced zealously. "He even tried to protect the Lodges from the FBI. It was all pretty crazy. When Hiram was sent to jail Archie had a full melt-down. So Mr Andrews sold his house in order to pay for Archie to go away to this really nice rehabilitation facility in Vermont."

"Vermont?" Jughead echoed, mostly out of disbelief.

"When he came home six months later and started working for his dad he seemed better." Betty elaborated. "But he was never able to get over the fact he blamed me for what happened. So now I just avoid him."

"Betty..." Jughead started uneasily. "I'm sorry. I had no idea."

"It's okay Jug." Betty said, leaning over to pat his leg. "I just can't believe the lies he's still spreading. Wait until I tell the boys. They'll think it's hilarious."

"Have you, um, spoken to Sweet Pea or Fangs yet?" he asked nervously.

"Nah. Not yet." she shrugged. "They're going to be so pissed off though. I promised I'd call them every day." 

"They're protective of you." Jughead said, knowing that he was making an obvious observation.

"Ultra protective." Betty agreed with a smile. "They're like the brothers I never thought I wanted or needed."

"I'm glad you had them with you these past few years." Jughead admitted. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

Betty bit her lip nervously and then glanced out the front of the car through wipers furiously working to clear the windshield of rain.

"Maybe we should talk about this when you aren't driving in dangerous conditions." she suggested glumly.

With that, she reached over to switch on the radio and settled back into her seat, her hand never leaving Jughead's leg.

They drove for some time in comfortable silence, stopping at a roadside bakery for a bite to eat and to stretch their legs when it got close to lunch time. The further north they traveled, the bluer the sky became and soon the rain was just another bad memory left behind in the town with pep.

It was mid-afternoon, and the station wagon was desperately in need of gas when they decided to make Lake Placid their final destination. It was a place Betty had visited twice before as a young child, but Jughead had never been. It seemed touristy and also far enough removed from Riverdale that nobody would ever find them.

They found a rustic and inviting looking hotel situated directly on the banks of Mirror Lake, and decided to try their luck.

Jughead secretly hoped that the overtly cheerful staff member working at the desk in the hotel lobby would tell them that due to it being the peak of summer there was only one room available and _unfortunately_ it had just the one bed.

But no such luck, because she tapped away at her keyboard and then bobbed her head up from behind the computer screen to helpfully inform them that she could offer a suite with two queen sized beds. Jughead glumly figured the scenario was at least more favorable than two separate rooms.

They headed back out to the car to grab their bags, and Jughead reached into the back seat just as Betty opened the door on the other side of the vehicle.

"It's okay Betts I can carry your stuff." he offered, making an off-handed grab for her monogramed Louis Vuitton weekender bag (that really had no place belonging to any Serpent, let alone a Serpent who lived in a trailer park). She let him take the designer luggage but possessively snatched up the non-descript black backpack that he'd seen her carrying at the Greendale warehouse the previous evening.

"Please tell me that bag isn't full of drugs." he muttered, though it came out as more of a question.

"It's not." She gave him a deliberate stare that seemed to convey a very straightforward message to mind his own business, then turned and headed inside the building.

The interior of the hotel had been stylized as a chalet, which Jughead assumed was more to cater to the winter tourists who came for the snow. There were exposed wooden beams crossing the expanse of the ceiling, and the room they'd been assigned was warm and plush with thick red carpet, old fashioned sleigh beds and a fire place in the corner. It was certainly the nicest place he'd stepped foot inside for many years.

Betty dumped her backpack on the bed closest to the door then ducked over to open the thick cream curtains and peer out the palatial window. 

"Oh the lake looks so nice Jug." she practically purred, clasping her hands together in delight. "Can we go for a walk down by the water?"

Her whole face was lit up with happiness and he wanted to tell her yes. But he knew what they really needed was to talk through their issues. Badly.

He wasn't exactly sure what was going on between them, and it was starting to make his head throb. Just yesterday they were still enemies. Yet here they were twenty-four hours later engaged in coy flirting with added helpings of hand holding. Not to mention the metaphorical dancing around both their past and their future. In a lot of ways it was a step in the right direction, but it was mostly just a whole new version of limbo.

"I thought mayb -" he began, but suddenly her melodic ringtone filled the hotel room.

She shot him an apologetic look and then reached into her bag to pull out her phone. "Oh I better take this." she grimaced, then quickly swiped her finger across the screen to accept the call. 

"Hey Fangs." she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "No I'm fine...I saw you yesterday morning why would you think that?"

The sweetness was suddenly gone from her voice as she slumped down onto the bed, deliberately putting her back to Jughead.

"Well I don't know why Mom was trying to call FP last night but it had nothing to do with me." she said, sounding slightly annoyed even as she lied her ass off. "Nothing happened! I watched TV at his place and then I went back to my trailer...No Fangs, we definitely didn't sleep together...What? No....You're starting to sound like Polly, there's no such thing as a soul mate."

As she spoke the words Betty glanced over her shoulder at Jughead and offered a smirk and a flirty wink that made him blush against his better judgement.

He felt almost like a voyeur listening in on her private conversation with Fangs. He'd watched her with both Fangs and Sweet Pea from afar for four months, and for the first time he was getting a true insight into their relationship. It was more of a sibling bond than he'd even realized.  And it definitely seemed like Fangs was pro Jughead, which was not completely unsurprisingly but still definitely nice to witness from the inside.

"Ugh Fangs please don't put him on the phone if he's just going to yell at me." Betty begged, then suddenly went quiet and still before her voice perked up again. "Hi Pea...I'm sorry if you were worried about me, but I'm fine I promise... Yes I know I was supposed to call you every day..."

Jughead's new burner phone (an unexcitingly generic smart phone Betty had helpfully picked up for him at the store while he'd been busy omitting the truth to his parole officer) buzzed in his pocket and he frowned in confusion as he answered the incoming call.

"Uh, hello?" he started tentatively.

"It's me." came FP's deep and concerned voice.

_Shit. Act normal act normal act normal._

"Hey Dad." he said, perhaps a little too casually. "How'd you get this number?"

"Alice texted it to me." came the gruff response. "It would have been nice if my own son had let me know he had a new phone, ya know?"

Jughead bit his lip and stepped into the bathroom, clicking the door shut so that FP wouldn't catch wind of Betty's voice in the background as she spoke to the boys. "Yeah sorry Dad. My old phone was a piece of junk and it just went dead on me."

"Oh really?" FP growled. "Because Ally told me that Betty yelled at you yesterday and then threw your phone in the toilet."

"She what?" Jughead gasped, trying hard to stifle a laugh.

Of all the excuses for Alice to go with, Jughead would never understand why she'd chosen that one. It was plausible but just plain embarrassing for all parties involved.

"I want to make sure you're okay, boy." FP continued seriously. "I know yesterday can't have been easy for you. I'm sorry to hear that you and Betty didn't get along. I was hoping perhaps the day would turn out differently."

"Oh it was different all right." Jughead muttered.

"What was that?" FP asked, his voice crackling through the shaky connection.

"Oh nothing, nothing." Jughead said quickly to cover his slip-up. "So how are you? How's the Slither?"

"We're having a fine time." FP replied, somewhat distantly. "Missing you though, Jug. We wish you were here with us. It would have been real nice to get you out of the apartment for a few days."

Jughead smiled and shook his head. "I'm pretty happy with where I am for the moment, Dad. Don't you worry about me."

"I'll check in with you again tomorrow, okay?" FP said, his voice lingering as if there was more he wanted to say.

"Okay Dad." Jughead replied warmly. "Love you."

"Love you too, son." FP said, before disconnecting the line.

Jughead made his way back out into the bedroom just as Betty was finishing up her own call.

"I love you too, Pea." she said, her eyes soft as she glanced over at Jughead. "I'll talk to you soon. Say hi to your sisters for me...I will. Bye."

Jughead leaned up against the hearth of the unlit fireplace, his feet crossed at the ankles and his arms folded across his chest as he waited for her to end the call. He could only see the profile of her face, but he could tell that she was upset.

Despite the sadness etched across her features, the golden afternoon sunlight streaming through the open curtains and dancing across her cheeks made him think about heaven and angels. It was strange, really - no matter how much time passed or how many crazy life events dragged them in opposite directions, he would never stop believing she was truly beautiful.

Betty effortlessly tossed the phone onto the mattress beside her, then shrugged sadly in Jughead's direction. He stayed perceptibly silent and allowed her to find the words she needed.

"I hate lying to them." she eventually sighed. "I know it's for the best, but it makes my chest hurt to know I'm deceiving them. I'm not good at it."

"You did a pretty good job of deceiving me these past few months." Jughead reminded her softly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I really honestly had no idea you still cared about me. I'm still struggling to comprehend it, actually."

Betty's green eyes immediately lifted to meet his blue and she frantically rose and moved to stand directly in front of him. "Of course I do, Jug. Don't you remember that ridiculous drag race with the Ghoulies back when we were in high school? I told you then that I'd never stop."

He grinned at the memory then unfolded his arms so that he could reach out to lightly touch her shoulder. "That memory must have slipped my mind while you were running around the Wyrm acting like we were mortal enemies." 

Betty's face crumpled a little and he hated being the cause of her pain, but their grievances needed to be aired and in some ways he hoped by putting it all out there it would be over quickly. Perhaps the sting would only linger momentarily, like ripping off a band-aid. Then they could properly work on repairing their relationship.

Whether that be just a friendship, or something more. 

She began to recoil away from him, but his hand on her arm held her in carefully place. "Please don't run, Betts. We really need to talk about this."

"I know we do." she said, her voice barely audible before she sighed again. "I just wanted to go for a walk by the lake and pretend for one afternoon that my life isn't such a stupid mess."

He smiled mournfully at that and reached out with his free hand to take hold of her other side, so that he held her steadily at arm’s length. 

"Do you know anyone whose life isn't a stupid mess?" he coaxed.

"Good point." Betty scoffed with a wry smile. "Someone should write a book about us."

"I'm pretty sure I already did." Jughead smirked. "Or at least I started to. I wonder if that old manuscript is still on my laptop."

Unable to stomach the sudden despondent look on Betty's face, Jughead pulled her towards him and allowed her to collapse into his chest to hug him tightly. His arms came up to wrap around her, pulling her body flush against his own.

He could smell the strawberry of her shampoo and feel her heart beating where her chest rested against his. Not for the first time that day he expressed silent disbelief that he was actually with her, holding her, and finally interacting with her after so many years apart.

"Do you think one day you'll finish your novel?" she spluttered, and it was only then that he realized she was crying (although he wasn't entirely sure why).

"One day, Betts." he murmured comfortingly in her ear. "Maybe."

She pulled away just far enough to allow her to tilt her face upwards and make eye contact with him.

"I wrote too. I wrote you letters." she whispered, before clarifying. "When you were gone."

Ah. Perhaps _that_ was the crux of her tears.

He sighed and smoothed down her hair then dragged her back in close enough to rest his chin on the crown of her head. "I know. I'm so sorry I sent them back to you without reading them."

"Why did you?" she asked, her voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

"I can't even explain it." Jughead frowned. "I thought by pushing you away I was protecting you. I didn't want you dividing your time between Vixens pep rallies and the prison visitors room. I wanted you to be free of the burdens of my life."

Betty jeered at that and he felt her vehemently shaking her head. "But my life was burdened anyway, whether I was in contact with you or not."

"I know that now, but I didn't back then." Jughead sighed. "You were destined for great things, Betty Cooper, and I thought the only way you could achieve them was to stay far away from me. Even if it hurt me."

"It hurt me, too." she sniffled. "You have no idea how hard it was. How alone I felt. The nights I cried myself to sleep, just wishing you would reach out and let me know you were okay. When Tarzan told me you were getting beaten up I thought my heart was going to split open from aching so much."

"I'm sorry." he murmured, tears welling in his own eyes as his fingers played with the soft hair at the base of her neck. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

His words seemed to have a visceral effect on her as she pulled back completely and moved to lean up against the wall beside him, though she dropped one of her hands into his and gripped it tightly.

"I'm sorry too, Jughead." she said, her soulful eyes expressing nothing but genuine remorse. "The way I treated you when you came home was nothing short of deplorable. But I honestly thought that you hated me. I'd hate me, too!"

He scrunched up his nose at the mere suggestion. "No Betts you're incredible. I mean, I really thought going to jail to protect your loved one was the grandest romantic gesture of all time. But stopping the SoDale project and then devoting years of your life to making sure _I_ was safe really takes the prize."

"You don't understand." she furiously shook her head and let go of his hand. "This entire thing is all my fault. Every bad moment in both our lives over the past four years was caused by me. I'm the reason you went to jail. I'm to blame for everything."

"No, Betts." he argued determinedly.

"I'm the one that went looking for Chic." Betty continued insistently. "I'm the one that let him into my home. I'm the one who dragged you into the whole fiasco when the shady man died. If I hadn't been so determined, your life wouldn't be ruined..."

As she trailed off her sentence, Betty's heightened emotions gave way to full hysterical sobbing. She abruptly turned away from him and rushed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Jughead took a deep, calming breath and ran a sweaty palm across his face to settle his nerves before rapping his knuckles softly on the gloss white door.

"Betty? Betty, it's okay." Jughead soothed, his fingers splayed on the surface of the wood. "This wasn't your fault. None of it was your fault."

He paused for several moments, hoping for a response, but she was completely silent. At least he knew she was still in there - their hotel room was on the fifth floor and they were more than four hours drive from Riverdale, so he highly doubted she'd decamped out a window.

"Nobody forced me to confess to that crime, Betty." he desperately pressed again. "I did it willingly and I have no regrets. If the only good thing I ever accomplish in my life is keeping you out of prison, then I'll die a happy man. Do you understand?"

More silence.

"Do you believe me?" he asked, his voice cracking under the weight of his own words.

Suddenly there was movement on the other side of the door, and Betty's tiny hollow voice filtered through to him.

"What was it like?" she asked. "In prison?"

His throat constricted, then. It was the same question he'd been avoiding for four months. But he knew if he was ever going to talk about it with anyone, it would be her. Of course it would be her.

"It was scary, at first." he exhaled disjointedly. "Noisy. All day and night there was always someone yelling or fighting or crying. It was dangerous, too - you don't know who to trust or who you should make eye contact with. Oh and the food was the worst. Even more awful than you could ever imagine."

He heard a little hiccup then; a sound that inadvertently revealed to him that Betty was both still listening and still crying in the bathroom.

"But after a while it wasn't so bad." He said insistently. "I made some friends. I kept out of trouble. I worked in the prison library. I even got my GED. It was life, you know? Routine. I worked out a lot, read a lot of books. I even learned the valuable lifelong skill of how to craft up a homemade shiv.”  

Although he couldn't see her face, he pictured her wiping away her tears and grinning at his pathetic attempt at humor.

"Did you ever think of me when you were there?" she asked next.

"Are you kidding?" he asked incredulously, laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of her question. "Betty I thought about you every day. Every hour. For the entire four years."

There was nothing but silence, and he suspected perhaps he hadn't said enough to convince her, so he just kept filling the void with the sound of his own voice.

"I would lie awake at night, imagining you out there somewhere in the world. In the sunshine, living your wonderful life." he confessed with a wistful smile. "Sometimes it was the only thing that kept me going. Did I think about you, Betts? The word _think_ doesn't even begin to cover it."

Completely without warning the bathroom door was thrown wide open to reveal Betty standing on the other side of the threshold.

Jughead, not expecting the sudden change, stumbled forwards and almost fell straight on top of her. He was mere seconds away from cracking a joke about how he clearly had a magnetic attraction to her when he glanced up and caught sight of the penetrating, carnal look in her eyes.

"Okay." Betty said darkly. "No more thinking. Not today."

Before he could even open his mouth to say anything, she was everywhere.

Her hands were on his chest, his arms, his back. It was almost as if she was drawing him impossibly close and enveloping him in a blanket of delicious Betty Cooper.

Then came her fingers - scratching wildly at his shoulders and raking upwards through his hair. His beanie was long forgotten as it was knocked off his crown and onto the floor.

He was drowning in her intoxicating scent. He was hot and burning and cold and clammy and everything in between. He was heady with anticipation, and he hadn't even touched her yet.

"Juggie." she gasped.

And then, _finally_ , she leaned forward and kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for ending this on a romantic cliffhanger! I actually hadn't planned to but the chapter word count blew out so badly. For the sake of rhythm and flow I sadly needed to split the final scene into two chapters. But on a bright note - the start of the next chapter basically picks up where we just left off. 
> 
> If you have the time I'd love some feedback as I'm new at this whole fiction thing and every single comment inspires me to try harder to make improvements in my writing! Hope you have a great day and enjoy tonight's episode!!


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